« 


MilMwEigSllgrii  Hi 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

Up  From  Slavery:  An  Autobiography 
The  Story  of  the  Negro 
Working  With  the  Hands 
Character  Building 
My  Larger  Education 


THE  MAN 
FARTHEST  DOWN 


A  RECORD  OF  OBSERVATION  AND 
STUDY  IN  EUROPE 


BY 

BOOKER  T.  WASHINGTON 

with  the  collaboration  of 
Robert  E.  Park 


J  3      J       '      3  ' 

>  >  J  3    T  :>  '    t 


Garden  City        New  York 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

1912 


Copi/right,  1911,  hj 

The  Outlook  Company 

Copyright,  1912,  by 

DOUBLEDAY,    PaGE    &    COMPANY 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of 

translatio7i  into  foreign  languages, 

including  the  Scandinavian 


CONTENTS 


IPTER 

I.     Hunting  the  Man  Farthest  Down         3 

II.     The    Man    at    the     Bottom    in 

London    .....       21 

III.  From   Petticoat   Lane   to    Skibo 

Castle 37 

IV.  First    Impression    of    Life    and 

Labour  on  the  Continent        .       S3 

V.     Politics  and  Races        ...       70 

VI.     Strikes  and  Farm  Labour  in  Italy 

and  Hungary  ....       86 

VII.     Naples    and    the    Land    of    the 

Emigrant I05 

VIII.     The   Labourer  and  the  Land  in 

Sicily 124 

IX.     Women  and  the  Wine  Harvest  in 

Sicily 148 

X.     The  Church,  the  People  and  the 

Mafia 166 

XL     Child    Labour    and    the  Sulphur 

Mines 192 

XII.     Fiume,  Budapest  and  the  Immi- 
grant          217         . 

XIII.     Cracow  and  the  Polish  Jew  .     240   V 


489583 


CONTENTS 

XIV.     A  Polish  Village  In  the  Mountains     264 

XV.     A  Russian  Border  Village     .         .    276 

XVI.    The  Women  Who  Work  in  Europe     296 

XVII.     The  Organization  of  Country  Life 

in  Denmark     .         .         .         .319 

XVIII.     Reconstructing   the   Life   of   the 

Labourer  in  London  .      .         '341 

XIX.     John  Burns  and  the  Man  Farthest 

Down  in  London      .         .         .360 

XX.     The  Future  of  the  Man  Farthest 

Down 377 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 


The  Man  Farthest  Down 


CHAPTER  I 

HUNTING    THE    MAN    FARTHEST   DOWN 

ON  THE  20th  of  August,  1910,  I  sailed 
from  New  York  City  for  Liverpool, 
England.  I  had  been  given  a  leave  of 
absence  of  two  months  from  my  work  at  Tuske- 
gee,  on  condition  that  I  would  spend  that  time 
in  some  way  that  would  give  me  recreation  and 
rest.  ^ 

Now  I  have  found  that  about  the  only  com- 
fortable and  satisfactory  way  for  me  to  rest  is 
to  find  some  new  kind  of  work  or  occupation. 
I  determined  therefore  to  carry  out  a  plan  I 
had  long  had  in  mind  of  making  myself  ac- 
quainted with  the  condition  of  the  poorer 
and  working  classes  in  Europe,  particularly  in 
those  regions  from  which  an  ever-increasing 
number  of  immigrants  are  coming  to  our  country 
each  year. 

There  have  been  a  number  of  efforts  made  in 
recent  years  to  divert  a  portion  of  this  immi- 


4  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

gration  to  the  Southern  States,  and  these  efforts 
have  been  the  source  of  wide  differences  of 
opinion  in  the  South.  Some  people  have  con- 
tended that  in  these  immigrants  the  Southern 
people  would  eventually  find  a  substitute  for 
the  Negro  labourer  and  that  in  this  direction  a 
solution  for  the  race  problem  would  be  found. 
In  some  parts  of  the  South,  in  fact,  the  exper- 
iment of  using  immigrants  from  Europe  to 
take  the  place  of  the  Negro  on  the  sugar  plan- 
tations and  in  the  cotton  fields  has  been  tried. 
Naturally  I  have  been  interested  in  these  ex- 
periments and  as  a  consequence  in  the  peoples 
with  whom  the  experiments  have  been  tried. 

The  best  way  to  get  acquainted  with  an  in- 
dividual, or  with  a  people,  according  to  my 
experience,  is  to  visit  them  at  their  work  and 
in  their  homes,  and  in  this  way  find  out  what  is 
back  of  them. 

So  it  was  that  I  determined  to  make  use  of 
my  stay  in  Europe  to  visit  the  people  in  their 
homes,  to  talk  with  them  at  their  work,  and 
to  find  out  everything  I  could,  not  only  in  re- 
gard to  their  present  situation,  but  also  in  re- 
gard to  their  future  prospects,  opportunities, 
hopes,  and  ambitions. 

I  was  curious,  for  one  thing,  to  learn  why  it 
was  that  so  many  of  these  European  people 
were  leaving  the  countries  in  which  they  were 


HUNTING  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN    s 

born  and  reared,  in  order  to  seek  their  fortunes 
in  a  new  country  and  among  strangers  in  a  dis- 
tant part  of  the  world,  and  to  this  question  I 
think  I  may  say  that  I  have  found,  in  a  general 
way,  an  answer.  One  general  fact,  at  any  rate, 
in  regard  to  this  matter  of  emigration,  I  may, 
perhaps,  without  attempting  to  go  into  details, 
mention  here  at  the  outset.     It  is  this: 

The  majority  of  the  people  who  reach  this 
country  as  immigrants  from  Europe  are,  as 
one  might  expect,  from  the  farming  regions. 
They  are  farm  labourers  or  tenant  farmers. 
Now  there  exists,  as  I  discovered,  a  very  definite 
relation  between  the  condition  of  agriculture 
and  the  agricultural  peoples  in  Europe  and 
the  extent  of  emigration  to  this  country.  In 
other  words,  wherever  in  any  part  of  Europe  I 
found  the  condition  of  agriculture  and  the  situ- 
ation of  the  farm  labourers  at  their  worst,  there 
I  almost  invariably  found  emigration  at  the 
highest.  On  the  other  hand,  w^herever  I  visited 
a  part  of  the  country  where  emigration  had,  in 
recent  years,  decreased,  there  I  quite  as  invar- 
iably found  that  the  situation  of  the  man  on  the 
soil  had  improved. 

What  interested  me  still  more  was  the  fact 
that  this  improvement  had  been,  to  a  very 
large  extent,  brought  about  through  the  in- 
fluence of  schools.     Agricultural  education  has 


6  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

stimulated  an  intensive  culture  of  the  soil; 
this  in  turn  has  helped  to  multiply  the  number 
of  small  land  owners  and  stimulate  the  organi- 
zation of  agriculture;  the  resulting  prosperity 
has  made  itself  felt  not  only  in  the  country  but 
in  the  cities.  For  example,  I  found  that  where 
the  people  were  prosperous  and  contented  in  the 
country,  there  were  fewer  idle,  discontented, 
starving  and  criminal  people  in  the  cities.  It 
is  just  as  true  of  the  poorer  and  labouring  classes 
in  Europe  as  it  is  of  the  Negro  in  the  South: 
that  most  of  the  problems  that  arise  in  the 
cities  have  their  roots  in  the  country. 

Another  matter  in  regard  to  which  I  hoped 
to  get  some  first-hand  information  during  my 
stay  abroad  was  what  I  may  call  the  European, 
as  distinguished  from  the  American,  race  prob- 
lem. I  knew  that  in  the  south  of  Europe 
a  number  of  races  of  widely  different  origin 
and  characteristics  had  been  thrown  to- 
gether in  close  contact  and  in  large  num- 
bers, and  I  suspected  that  in  this  whirlpool  of 
contending  races  and  classes  I  should  find  prob- 
lems —  race  problems  and  educational  problems 
—  different,  to  be  sure,  but  quite  as  compli- 
cated, difficult  and  interesting  as  in  our  own 
country. 

While  every  race  and  every  nation  must  solve 
its  own  problems  in  its  own  way,  and  for  that 


HUNTING  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN    7 

reason  it  is  not  possible  to  make  any  very  ex- 
tended comparison  between  the  race  problems 
of  Europe  and  of  America,  there  is,  at  least,  a 
certain  advantage  in  knowing  that  other  nations 
and  other  peoples  have  problems  within  their 
national  life  which  are  quite  as  difficult  and 
perplexing  as  our  own. 

We  sometimes  think  and  speak  of  the  con- 
ditions existing  in  our  own  country  as  if  they 
were  wholly  exceptional  and  without  parallel 
in  other  parts  of  the  world.  My  stay  in  Europe 
has  convinced  me  that  we  are  not  worse  off  in 
America  in  this  respect  than  other  peoples. 
Even  if  they  had  the  choice,  I  do  not  believe, 
for  instance,  that  the  Southern  people,  black 
or  white,  would  be  willing  to  exchange  their 
own  troubles,  such  as  they  are,  for  those  of 
any  other  nation  or  group  of  people  in  Europe 
or  elsewhere. 

There  was  another  thing  that  made  the  trip 
I  had  outlined  peculiarly  attractive  to  me:  I 
believed  that  I  would  find  in  some  parts  of 
Europe  peoples  who  in  respect  to  education, 
opportunity,  and  civilization  generally  were 
much  nearer  the  level  of  the  masses  of  the  Negro 
people  in  the  South  than  I  was  likely  to  find 
anywhere  in  America.  I  believed,  also,  that  if 
I  went  far  enough  and  deep  enough  I  should 
find  even   in  Europe  great  numbers  of  people 


8  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

who,  in  their  homes,  in  their  labour,  and  in 
their  manner  of  living,  were  little,  if  any,  in 
advance  of  the  Negroes  in  the  Southern  States, 
and  I  wanted  to  study  at  first  hand,  as  far  as 
I  was  able,  the  methods  which  European  nations 
were  using  to  uplift  the  masses  of  the  people 
who  were  at  the  bottom  in  the  scale  of  civili- 
zation. 

In  view  of  the  rather  elaborate  plan  I  have 
sketched,  I  am  certain  that  some  of  my  readers 
will  wonder  how  I  expected  to  be  able,  in  the 
eight  weeks  to  which  my  vacation  was  limited, 
to  cover  all  the  ground  or  get  any  definite  or 
satisfactory  notions  in  regard  to  the  special 
matters  which  interested  me  in  the  places  I  pro- 
posed to  visit.  It  seems  to  me,  therefore,  that 
I  ought  to  say  something,  by  way  of  explana- 
tion and  introduction,  as  to  just  how  this 
journey  was  made  and  in  regard  to  the  manner 
in  which  the  impressions  and  facts  which  make 
up  the  remainder  of  this  book  were  obtained. 

In  the  first  place,  it  should  be  remembered 
that  I  was  looking  in  all  the  different  countries 
I  visited  for  one  class  of  facts  and  seeking  to 
make  myself  familiar  with  merely  one  phase 
of  life.  During  the  whole  course  of  this  jour- 
ney, therefore,  I  kept  myself  religiously  from 
the  temptation  that  was  constantly  ofi"ered  to 
look    at    anything,    however    important    and 


t- 


r^ 


HUNTING  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN    9 

interesting,  that  did  not  concern  itself  with 
the  purpose  of  my  journey. 

In  the  second  place,  I  found  that,  while  there 
were  great  differences  to  be  observed  In  the 
condition  of  the  different  peoples  whom  I  visited, 
there  were,  also,  many  broad  similarities.  I 
found,  for  example,  that  what  I  learned  In 
London  was  very  useful  and  valuable  to  me, 
by  way  of  comparison.  In  studying  and  observ- 
ing what  I  wanted  to  see  In  Copenhagen  and  In 
Denmark.  I  found  that  the  things  I  observed 
among  the  peasants  of  Italy  were  a  great  help 
to  me  when  I  reached  Austria  and  was  able  to 
compare  the  conditions  of  the  farming  popu- 
lation In  these  two  different  countries.  The 
result  was  that  the  farther  I  went  and  the  more 
familiar  I  became  with  the  general  situation  of 
the  labouring  classes,  the  more  I  gained  In  in- 
sight and  understanding  of  all  that  I  saw. 

In  fact  I  am  convinced  that  if  there  is  any- 
thing of  special  value  In  the  studies  and  ob- 
servations that  I  have  set  down  in  this  book  It 
will  be  found,  not  so  much  in  the  facts  them- 
selves, as  in  the  attempt  to  bring  them  together 
into  a  single  point  of  view. 

One  of  the  first  things  I  learned  in  Europe  was 
the  difficulty  of  meeting  the  ordinary  man  and 
seeing  and  getting  acquainted  with  the  matters 
of  everyday  life.     I  soon  discovered  that  the 


lo  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

most  difficult  things  to  see  are  not  the  sights 
that  every  one  goes  to  look  at,  but  the  common- 
place things  that  no  one  sees.  In  order  to 
carry  out  the  plan  I  had  in  mind  it  was  necessary 
for  me  to  leave  the  ordinary  beaten  track  of 
European  travel  and  to  plunge  into  regions 
which  have  not  been  charted  and  mapped,  and 
where  ordinary  guides  and  guide-books  are  of 
little  or  no  avail. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  found  less  difficulty  in 
this  respect  in  London  than  I  did  on  the  Con- 
tinent, where  it  seemed  to  me  that  railways, 
guides,  guide-books,  and  the  friends  I  met  on 
the  way  were  in  a  conspiracy  to  compel  me  to 
see  the  things  I  did  not  want  to  see,  and  to 
prevent  me  from  seeing  all  the  things  that  I 
did  want  to  see. 

For  example,  I  had  registered  a  firm  resolu- 
tion, before  I  sailed  from  America,  that  if  I 
could  prevent  it  I  would  not  enter  a  single 
palace,  museum,  gallery,  or  cathedral.  I  suc- 
ceeded partly  in  living  up  to  this  resolution. 
When  I  reached  Cracow  in  Poland,  however, 
my  fate  overtook  me.  I  had  heard  a  great  deal 
of  the  ancient  salt  mines  of  Wieliczka.  I  knew 
that  in  many  places  women  were  employed  side 
by  side  with  the  men  in  loading  and  carrying  out 
the  products  of  the  mines,  and  for  this  reason, 
and  because  I  had  myself  at  one  time  been  a 


HUNTING  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN  ii 

miner  in  America,   I  was  very  anxious  to  see 
how  the  work  was  carried  on  in  Europe. 

The    salt   mines    are    about   ten    miles    from 
Cracow,  and  in  order  to  reach  them  I  found  it 
necessary  to  take  a  carriage.     At  the  entrance 
to  the  mines   I  was  surprised  to  find  a  large 
number  of  sightseers  waiting  to  go  down  in  the 
shaft,  and  a  dark  suspicion  crossed  my  mind  that 
I  had  made  a  mistake.     My  worst  suspicions 
were    confirmed  when,   after  descending  some 
two  or  three  hundred  feet  below  the  surface,  I 
found  myself  suddenly  ushered  into  an  ancient 
underground    chapel.     The    place   was    beauti- 
fully   lighted    and    decorated    with    glistening 
figures  which  had  been  hewn  from  solid  blocks  of 
salt  by  the  pious  miners  who  had  worked  in  these 
mines  some  three  or  four  hundred  years  before. 
From  this  chapel  we  again  descended,  through 
a   dark,   damp   passageway,    into   still   another 
and  then  another  large,  elaborately  decorated 
and  brilliantly  lighted  chapel.     In  one  of  these 
we  ran  upon  a  great  crowd  of  several  hundred 
people  carrying  lighted  torches  and  accompanied 
by  a  brass  band.     They  were  peasants  who  were 
making  an  annual  pilgrimage  to  the  mine  for 
the  purpose  of  visiting  the  underground  chapels, 
which  have  acquired  a  wide  fame  in  the  sur- 
rounding country. 

For  two  or  three  hours  we  wandered  on  from 


12  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

one  large  chamber  to  another,  going  deeper 
and  deeper  into  the  mine,  but  never  coming, 
as  near  as  I  could  see,  any  nearer  to  the  miners. 
Finally  it  began  to  dawn  upon  me  that  so  far 
from  being  in  an  actual  salt  mine,  I  was  really 
in  a  sort  of  underground  museum.  There  were 
chapels  and  monuments  and  crowds  of  people 
in  holiday  attire;  there  were  lights  and  music 
and  paper  lanterns,  but  there  was  nothing  that 
would  in  any  way  remind  you  of  the  actual 
daily  life  of  the  miners  that  I  had  come  there  to 
see;  in  fact,  the  only  miners  with  whom  I  came 
in  contact  were  those  who  acted  as  guides  or 
played  in  the  band.  It  was  all  very  strange 
and  very  interesting,  and  there  was,  I  learned, 
no  possible  means  of  escape. 

From  what  I  have  already  said  I  fear  that 
some  of  my  readers  will  feel,  as  a  great  many 
people  whom  I  met  abroad  did,  that  in  my 
journey  across  Europe  I  must  have  gained  a 
very  unfortunate  and  one-sided  view  of  the 
countries  and  the  peoples  I  visited.  It  will 
seem  to  them,  perhaps,  that  I  was  looking  for 
everything  that  was  commonplace  or  bad  in 
the  countries  I  visited,  and  avoiding  everything 
that  was  extraordinary  or  in  any  way  worth 
looking  at.  My  only  excuse  is  that  I  was,  in 
fact,  not  looking  for  the  best,  but  for  the  worst; 
I  was  hunting  for  the  man  farthest  down. 


HUNTING  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN  13 

Most  people  who  travel  in  Europe  seem  to 
me  to  be  chiefly  interested  in  two  sorts  of  things : 
They  want  to  see  what  is  old,  and  they  want  to 
see  what  is  dead.  The  regular  routes  of  travel 
run  through  palaces,  museums,  art  galleries, 
ancient  ruins,  monuments,  churches,  and  grave- 
yards. 

I  have  never  been  greatly  Interested  in  the 
past,  for  the  past  Is  something  that  you  cannot 
change.  I  like  the  new,  the  unfinished  and  the 
problematic.  My  experience  Is  that  the  man 
who  is  interested  in  living  things  must  seek  them 
in  the  grime  and  dirt  of  everyday  life.  To  be 
sure,  the  things  one  sees  there  are  not  always 
pleasant,  but  the  people  one  meets  are  Inter- 
esting, and  if  they  are  sometimes  among  the 
worst  they  are  also  frequently  among  the  best 
people  in  the  w^orld.  At  any  rate,  wherever 
there  is  struggle  and  effort  there  is  life. 

I  have  referred  to  the  way  In  which  I  tried 
and,  to  a  reasonable  extent,  succeeded  in  con- 
fining my  observations  to  a  certain  definite 
point  of  view.  Aside  from  this  I  had  certain 
other  advantages  upon  this  expedition  in  find- 
ing what  I  wanted  to  see  and  avoiding  the  things 
I  did  not  want  to  see,  without  which  I  certainly 
could  neither  have  covered  the  ground  I  did, 
nor  have  found  my  way  to  so  many  things  that 
had  for  me  special  and  peculiar  interest.     Some 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

years  ago  I  made  the  acquaintance,  in  Boston, 
of  Dr.  Robert  E.  Park,  who  has  for  some  time 
past  assisted  me  in  my  work  at  Tuskegee.  At 
the  time  I  first  met  him  Doctor  Park  was  in- 
terested in  the  movement  to  bring  about  a  re- 
form of  the  conditions  then  existing  in  the 
Congo  Free  State  in  Africa;  in  fact,  he  was  at 
that  time  secretary  of  the  Congo  Reform 
Association,  and  it  was  through  his  efforts  to 
interest  me  in  that  movement  that  I  came  to 
know  him.  He  had  a  notion,  as  he  explained 
to  me,  that  the  conditions  of  the  natives  in  the 
Congo,  as  well  as  in  other  parts  of  Africa,  could 
not  be  permanently  improved  only  through  a 
system  of  education,  somewhat  similar  to  that 
at  Hampton  and  Tuskegee.  The  Congo  Re- 
form Association,  as  he  explained,  was  engaged 
in  a  work  of  destruction,  but  what  interested 
him  chiefly  was  what  should  be  done  in  the 
w^ay  of  construction  or  reconstruction  after  the 
work  of  destruction  was  completed.  We  had 
frequent  conversations  upon  the  subject,  and  it 
was  in  this  way  that  he  finally  became  interested 
in  the  work  that  was  being  done  for  the  Negro 
in  the  Southern  States.  Since  that  time  he 
has  spent  the  larger  part  of  every  year  in  the 
South,  assisting  me  in  my  work  at  Tuskegee  and 
using  the  opportunity  thus  offered  to  study  what 
is    called   the   Negro   problem.     The   reason   I 


HUNTING  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN  15 

make  this  statement  here  is  because  Doctor 
Park  was  not  only  my  companion  In  all  of  my 
trip  through  Europe,  but  he  also  went  to  Europe 
some  months  in  advance  of  me  and  thus  had 
an  opportunity  to  study  the  situation  and 
make  it  possible  for  me  to  see  more  in  a  short 
space  of  time  than  I  could  otherwise  have 
been  able  to  do.  In  this  and  in  other  ways 
he  has  been  largely  responsible  for  what  appears 
in  this  book. 

For  instance,  it  was  Doctor  Park  who  studied 
out  the  general  plans  and  details  of  our  trip. 
He  acted,  also,  not  merely  as  a  companion  but 
as  a  guide  and  interpreter.  He  assisted  me  also 
in  getting  hold  of  the  documents  and  literature 
in  the  different  countries  we  visited  which 
enabled  me  to  correct  the  impressions  I  had 
formed  on  the  spot  and  to  supplement  them  with 
the  facts  and  statistics  in  regard  to  the  con- 
ditions we  had  observed. 

In  several  directions  Doctor  Park  was  pe- 
culiarly fitted  for  giving  me  this  sort  of  assist- 
ance. In  the  first  place,  during  the  years  he 
had  been  at  Tuskegee  he  had  become  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  conditions  in  the  Southern 
States  and.  In  the  course  of  the  journey  of  ob- 
servation and  study  on  which  he  had  accompa- 
nied me,  we  had  become  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  each  other,  so  that  he  understood  not  only 


i6  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

what  I  desired,  but  what  It  was  Important  for 
me  to  see  in  Europe. 

In  the  second  place,  shortly  before  I  met  him. 
Doctor  Park  had  just  returned  from  four  years 
of  study  in  Europe.  He  was  familiar  with 
much  of  the  ground  we  Intended  to  cover  and 
at  the  same  time  spoke  the  language  which  was 
of  greatest  use  in  most  of  the  countries  we 
visited  —  namely,  German. 

Two  people  travelling  together  can,  under 
any  circumstances,  see  and  learn  a  great  deal 
more  than  one.  When  It  comes  to  travelling 
In  a  new  and  unfamiliar  country  this  is  em- 
phatically true.  For  this  reason  a  large  part 
of  what  I  saw  and  learned  about  Europe  is  due 
directly  to  the  assistance  of  Doctor  Park. 
Our  method  of  procedure  was  about  as  follows: 
When  we  reached  a  city  or  other  part  of  the 
country  which  we  wished  to  study  we  would 
usually  start  out  together.  I  had  a  notebook 
In  which  I  jotted  down  on  the  spot  what  I  saw 
that  interested  me,  and  Doctor  Park,  who  had 
had  experience  as  a  newspaper  reporter,  used 
his  eyes  and  ears.  Then  in  the  course  of  our  long 
stretches  of  railway  travel  we  compared  notes  and 
comments  and.  sifted,  as  thoroughly  as  we  were 
able,  the  facts  and  observations  we  had  been  able 
to  gather.  Then  as  soon  as  we  reached  a  large 
city  I  got  hold  of  a  stenographer  and  dictated, 


HUNTING  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN  17 

as  fully  as  I  was  able,  the  story  of  what  we  had 
seen  and  learned.  In  doing  this  I  used  Doctor 
Park's  observations,  I  suppose,  quite  as  much  as 
I  did  my  own.  In  fact,  I  do  not  believe  I  am 
able  to  say  now  how  much  of  what  I  have 
written  is  based  upon  my  own  personal  obser- 
vations and  what  is  based  upon  those  of  Doc- 
tor Park.  Thus,  it  should  be  remembered  that 
although  this  book  is  written  throughout  in  the 
first  person  it  contains  the  observations  of  two 
different  individuals. 

In  another  direction  Doctor  Park  has  con- 
tributed to  make  this  book  what  it  is.  While  I 
was  dictating  my  own  account  of  our  adventures 
he  would  usually  spend  the  time  hunting  through 
the  book  stores  and  libraries  for  any  books  or 
information  which  would  throw  any  light  on 
the  matter  in  which  we  were  interested.  The 
result  was  that  we  returned  with  nearly  a  trunk- 
ful  of  books,  papers,  and  letters  which  we  had 
obtained  in  different  places  and  from  different 
people  we  met.  With  these  documents  Doctor 
Park  then  set  to  work  to  straighten  out  and 
complete  the  matter  that  I  had  dictated,  filling 
in  and  adding  to  what  I  had  written.  The 
chapters  which  follow  are  the  result. 

I  set  out  from  America,  as  I  have  said,  to 
find  the  man  farthest  down.  In  a  period  of 
about   six  weeks   I  visited  parts  of  England, 


i8   '         THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

Scotland,  Germany,  Austria-Hungary,  Italy, 
Sicily,  Poland,  and  Denmark.  I  spent  some 
time  among  the  poorer  classes  of  London  and  in 
several  cities  In  Austria  and  Italy.  I  investi- 
gated, to  a  certain  extent,  the  condition  of  the 
agricultural  populations  in  Sicily,  in  Bohemia, 
Poland,  and  Denmark.  I  saw  much  that  was 
sad  and  depressing,  but  I  saw  much,  also,  that 
was  hopeful  and  inspiring.  Bad  as  conditions 
are  in  some  places,  I  do  not  think  I  visited  any 
place  where  things  are  not  better  now  than  they 
were  some  years  ago. 

I  found  also  that  the  connection  between 
Europe  and  America  is  much  closer  and  more 
intimate  than  I  had  imagined.  I  am  sure  that 
very  few  persons  In  this  country  realize  the 
extent  to  which  America  has  touched  and 
influenced  the  masses  of  the  people  in  Europe. 
I  think  It  is  safe  to  say  that  no  single  influence 
which  Is  to-day  tending  to  change  and  raise 
the  condition  of  the  working  people  in  the 
agricultural  regions  of  southern  Europe  is 
greater  than  the  constant  stream  of  emigration 
which  Is  pouring  out  of  Europe  into  America 
and  back  again  into  Europe.  It  should  be 
rerhembered  that  not  only  do  large  numbers  of 
these  people  emigrate  to  America,  but  many 
of  these  emigrants  return  and  bring  with  them 
not  only  money  to  buy  lands,  but  new  ideas, 


HUNTING  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN  19 

higher  ambitions,  and  a  wider  outlook  on  the 
world. 

Everywhere  that  I  went,  even  in  the  most 
distant  parts  of  the  country,  where  as  yet  the 
people  have  been  almost  untouched  by  the 
influences  of  modern  civilization,  I  met  men  who 
spoke  in  broken  English,  but  with  genuine 
enthusiasm,  of  America.  Once,  when  I  had 
made  a  half-day's  journey  by  rail  and  wagon 
into  a  distant  village  in  Poland,  in  order  to 
see  something  of  life  in  a  primitive  farming 
village,  I  was  enthusiastically  welcomed  at  the 
country  tavern  by  the  proprietor  and  two  or 
three  other  persons,  all  of  whom  had  lived  for 
some  time  in  America  and  were  able  to  speak 
a  little  English. 

At  another  time,  when  I  visited  the  sulphur 
mines  in  the  mountains  of  central  Sicily,  I  was 
surprised  and  delighted  to  encounter,  deep 
down  in  one  of  these  mines,  several  hundred 
feet  below  the  surface,  a  man  with  whom  I 
was  able  to  speak  familiarly  about  the  coal 
mines  of  West  Virginia,  where  each  of  us, 
at  different  times,  had  been  employed  in  mine 
labour. 

There  seemed  to  be  no  part  of  Europe  so 
distant  or  so  remote  that  the  legend  of  America 
had  not  penetrated  to  it;  and  the  influence  of 
America,  of  American  ideas,  is  certainly  making 


20  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

itself  felt  In  a  very  definite  way  in  the  lowest 
strata  of  European  civilization. 

The  thing  that  impressed  me  most,  however, 
was  the  condition  of  the  labouring  women  of 
Europe.  I  do  not  know  the  statistics,  but  if  I 
am  permitted  to  judge  by  what  I  saw  I  should 
say  that  three  fourths  of  the  work  on  the  farms, 
and  a  considerable  part  of  the  heavy  work  in 
the  cities  of  Europe,  is  performed  by  women. 
Not  only  that,  but  in  the  low  life  of  great  cities, 
like  London,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  women 
suffer  more  from  the  evil  influences  of  slum  life 
than  the  men.  In  short,  if  I  may  put  it  that 
way,  the  man  farthest  down  in  Europe  is  woman. 
Women  have  the  narrowest  outlook,  do  the 
hardest  work,  stand  in  greatest  need  of  edu- 
cation, and  are  farthest  removed  from  influences 
which  are  everywhere  raising  the  level  of  life 
among  the  masses  of  the  European  people. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  MAN  AT  THE  BOTTOM  IN  LONDON 

THE  Carmama,  the  ship  in  which  I  had 
sailed,  disembarked  its  passengers  late 
Saturday  at  Fishguard,  oif  the  coast 
of  Wales.  The  special  train  which  sped  us  on 
to  London  reached  the  city  early  Sunday  morn- 
ing, August  28. 

As  I  drove  from  the  railway  station  in  the 
gray  of  the  early  morning  my  attention  was 
attracted  by  a  strange,  shapeless  and  disrepu- 
table figure  which  slunk  out  of  the  shadow  of  a 
building  and  moved  slowly  and  dejectedly  down 
the  silent  and  empty  street.  In  that  quarter  of 
the  city,  and  in  comparison  with  the  solid  re- 
spectability and  comfort  represented  by  the 
houses  around  him,  the  figure  of  this  man  seemed 
grotesquely  wretched.  In  fact,  he  struck  me 
as  the  most  lonely  object  I  had  ever  laid  my 
eyes  on.  I  watched  him  down  the  street  as 
far  as  I  could  see.  He  turned  neither  to  the  left 
nor  to  the  right,  but  moved  slowly  on,  his  head 
bent  toward  the  ground,  apparently  looking  for 
something   he   did   not  hope   to  find.     In   the 


22  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

course  of  my  journe>  across  Europe  I  saw  much 
poverty,  but  I  do  not  think  I  saw  anything  quite 
so  hopeless  and  wretched. 

I  had  not  been  long  in  London  before  I 
learned  that  this  man  was  a  type.  It  is  said 
that  there  are  ten  thousand  of  these  homeless 
and  houseless  men  and  women  in  East  London 
alone.  They  are,  however,  not  confined  to  any 
part  of  the  city.  They  may  be  found  in  the  fash- 
ionable West  End,  lounging  on  the  benches  of 
St.  James's  Park,  as  well  as  in  the  East  End, 
where  the  masses  of  the  labouring  people  live. 
The  Salvation  Army  has  erected  shelters  for 
them  in  many  of  the  poorer  parts  of  the  city, 
where,  for  anything  from  two  to  eight  cents, 
they  may  get  a  room  for  the  night,  and  some- 
times a  piece  of  bread  and  a  bowl  of  soup. 
Thousands  of  them  are  not  able  to  compass  the 
small  sum  necessary  to  obtain  even  this  mini- 
mum of  food  and  comfort.  These  are  the  out- 
casts and  the  rejected,  the  human  waste  of  a 
great  city.  They  represent  the  man  at  the  bot- 
tom in  London. 

Later,  in  the  course  of  my  wanderings  about 
the  city,  I  met  many  of  these  hopeless  and 
broken  men.  I  saw  them  sitting,  on  sunshiny 
days,  not  only  men  but  women  also,  crumpled  up 
on  benches  or  stretched  out  on  the  grass  of  the 
parks.      I    discovered    them    on    rainy    nights 


THE  MAN  AT  THE  BOTTOM  23 

crouching  in  doorways  or  huddled  away  in 
dark  corners  where  an  arch  or  a  wall  protected 
them  from  the  cold.  I  met  them  in  the  early 
morning  hours,  before  the  city  was  awake, 
creeping  along  the  Strand  and  digging  with 
their  hands  in  the  garbage-boxes;  and  again, 
late  at  night,  on  the  Thames  Embankment, 
where  hundreds  of  them  sleep  —  when  the 
night  watchman  permits  —  on  the  benches  or 
stretched  out  on  the  stone  pavements.  After 
a  time  I  learned  to  distinguish  the  same  type 
under  the  disguise  of  those  street  venders  who 
stand  on  street  corners  and  sell  collar-buttons, 
matches,  and  other  trifles,  stretching  out  their 
hands  in  a  pitiful  sort  of  supplication  to  passers- 
by  to  buy  their  wares. 

Whenever  I  found  an  opportunity  to  do  so,  I 
talked  with  some  of  these  outcasts.  Gradually, 
partly  from  themselves  and  partly  from  others, 
I  learned  something  of  their  histories.  I  found 
that  it  was  usually  drink  that  had  been  the 
immediate  cause  of  their  downfall.  But  there 
were  always  other  and  deeper  causes.  Most  of 
them,  it  seemed  to  me,  had  simply  been  borne 
down  by  the  temptations  and  the  fierce  compe- 
tition of  life  in  a  great  city.  There  comes  a 
time  when  trade  is  dull;  men  who  had  been 
accustomed  to  spend  much  money  begin  to 
spend  less,  and  there  is  no  work  to  be  had.    At 


24  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

these  times  it  is  "the  less  efhcient,  the  less 
energetic,  the  less  strong,  the  less  young,  the 
less  regular,  the  less  temperate,  or  the  less 
docile"  who  are  crowded  out.  In  this  way 
these  men  have  lost  their  hold  and  sunk  to  the 
bottom. 

I  remember  meeting  one  of  these  men  late 
at  night  wandering  along  the  Thames  Embank- 
ment. In  the  course  of  my  conversation  with 
him  I  asked  him,  among  other  things,  if  he 
voted,  and,  if  so,  to  what  political  party  he 
belonged. 

He  looked  at  me  in  amazement,  and  then  he 
said  he  had  never  voted  in  his  life.  It  was  his 
expression  rather  than  his  words  that  impressed 
me.  This  expression  told  me  how  out  of  touch 
he  was  with  the  world  about  him.  He  had,  in 
fact,  as  I  learned,  no  family,  no  home,  friends, 
trade;  he  belonged  to  no  society;  he  had,  so 
far  as  I  could  learn,  no  views  on  life.  In  the 
very  midst  of  this  great  city  he  was  as  solitary 
as  a  hermit. 

A  few  weeks  later,  in  a  little  village  in  Galicia, 
I  asked  the  same  question  of  a  Polish  peasant. 
"Oh,  yes,"  he  eagerly  replied;  "every  one  votes 
here  now. " 

Sixty  years  ago  most  of  the  peasants  in  this 
village  to  which  I  have  referred  were  serfs,  and. 
it  was  not  until  two  years  ago  that  the  Govern- 


THE  MAN  AT  THE  BOTTOM  25 

ment'gave  them  all  the  right  to  vote.  Never- 
theless, at  the  present  time  the  people  in  this 
village  are  represented  by  one  of  their  own  num- 
ber in  the  Imperial  Parliament  at  Vienna.  I 
stopped  on  my  way  through  the  village  at  the 
little  store  kept  by  this  man,  I  found  two 
young  girls  tending  the  store,  his  daughters,  but 
the  representative  himself  was  not  at  home. 

I  do  not  know  why  I  should  mention  this 
circumstance  here,  except  that  I  was  impressed 
by  the  contrast  in  the  reply  of  these  two  men, 
the  one  coming  from  a  peasant  in  Poland  and 
the  other  from  an  Englishman  in  London. 

It  is  generally  said  that  the  Negro  represents 
in  America  the  man  farthest  down.  In  going 
to  Europe  I  had  in  mind  to  compare  the  masses 
of  the  Negro  people  of  the  Southern  States  with 
the  masses  in  Europe  in  something  like  the  same 
stage  of  civilization.  It  would  not  be  difficult 
to  compare  the  Negro  in  the  South  with  the 
Polish  peasant,  for  example,  because  the  masses 
of  the  Poles  are,  like  the  masses  of  the  Negroes, 
an  agricultural  people. 

I  know  no  class  among  the  Negroes  in  America, 
however,  with  whom  I  could  compare  the  man 
at  the  bottom  in  England.  Whatever  one  may 
say  of  the  Negro  in  America,  he  is  not,  as  a  rule, 
a  beggar.  It  is  very  rarely  that  any  one  sees 
a   black    hand    stretched  out    for  alms.     One 


26  "^       THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

does  see,  to  be  sure,  too  many  idle  and  loaf- 
ing Negroes  standing  on  the  street  corners  and 
around  the  railway  stations  in  the  South,  but 
the  Negro  is  not,  as  a  rule,  a  degenerate.  If 
he  is  at  the  bottom  in  America,  it  is  not  because 
he  has  gone  backward  and  sunk  down,  but  be- 
cause he  has  never  risen. 

Another  thing  in  regard  to  the  Negro:  al- 
though he  is  frequently  poor,  he  is  never  with- 
out hope  and  a  certain  joy  in  living.  No 
hardship  he  has  yet  encountered,  either  in 
slavery  or  in  freedom,  has  robbed  the  Negro  of 
the  desire  to  live.  The  race  constantly  grew 
and  increased  in  slavery,  and  it  has  considerably 
more  than  doubled  in  freedom.  There  are 
some  people  among  the  members  of  my  race  who 
complain  about  the  hardships  which  the  Negro 
suffers,  but  none  of  them  yet,  so  far  as  I  know, 
has  ever  recommended  *'race  suicide"  as  a  solu- 
tion of  the  race  problem. 

I  mention  this  because  I  found  just  the  con- 
trary to  be  the  case  in  England.  I  do  not 
think  that  anything  I  saw  or  heard  while  I 
was  in  England  gave  me  a  more  poignant  im- 
pression of  the  hardships  of  the  labouring  man 
in  England  than  the  discovery  that  one  of  the 
most  widely  read  weekly  papers  in  England, 
under  the  caption  of  "The  White  Slaves  of 
Morality,"  was  making  a  public  campaign  in 


THE  MAN  AT  THE  BOTTOM  27 

favour  of  reducing  the  size  of  the  families 
among  the  working  classes. 

The  articles  I  refer  to,  which  were  written 
by  a  woman,  were  a  protest,  on  the  one  hand, 
against  the  clergy  because  they  taught  that  it 
would  be  immoral  for  women  to  refuse  to  have 
children,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  against  the 
physicians  who  withheld  from  these  women  the 
knowledge  by  which  they  might  be  able  to 
limit  the  size  of  their  families.  These  articles 
w^ere  followed  from  week  to  week  by  letters 
purporting  to  come  from  working  men  and 
women  telling  of  the  heartbreaking  struggle 
they  were  making  to  support  their  children  on 
the  wages  they  were  able  to  earn. 

What  made  these  articles  the  more  startling 
was  the  fact  that,  at  the  very  time  when  they 
were  proposing  to  the  English  labourer  what  ex- 
President  Roosevelt  has  defined  as  *'race  sui- 
cide," thousands  of  immigrants  from  the  south 
of  Europe  were  pouring  into  London  every  year 
to  take  the  places  left  vacant  by  the  recession 
of  the  native  Anglo-Saxon. 

On  my  previous  visit  to  England  I  had  been 
struck  by  what  seemed  to  me  the  cold  and  for- 
mal character  of  the  English  newspapers.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  they  were  wholly  lacking  in 
human  interest.  Upon  my  last  visit  my  opinion 
in  regard  to  the  London  newspapers  was  con- 


28  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

siderably  altered.  A  careful  study  of  the  daily 
newspaper,  I  found,  will  repay  any  one  who 
wants  to  get  an  insight  into  social  conditions 
in  England. 

I  had  not  been  in  London  more  than  a  day 
or  two,  for  example,  when  my  attention  was 
attracted  to  the  following  item  in  one  of  the 
morning  papers : 

STARVING  FAMILY 
coroner's  appeal  to  the  public  for  aid 

Telling  of  a  terrible  case  of  starvation  in  the  Stoke  Newington 
Coroner's  Court,  Dr.  Wynn  Westcott,  the  coroner,  asked  the 
press  to  bring  a  deserving  case  before  the  notice  of  the  char- 
itable public. 

He  said  that  he  had  held  an  inquest  upon  a  three-weeks-old 
baby  which  had  died  of  starvation.  Its  father  had  had  no 
regular  work  for  three  years,  and  only  a  little  casual  work  in 
that  time.  There  was  so  little  money  that  the  mother,  Mrs. 
Attewell,  of  White  Hart  Street,  Stoke  Newington,  was  half 
starved  too.  She  had  only  had  a  crust  of  bread  to  sustain  her 
on  the  day  her  child  died,  although  she  had  done  nine  and  a 
half  hours'  washing  to  assist  the  home. 

The  home  was  perfectly  clean,  although  practically  destitute 
of  furniture.     It  was  a  most  deserving  case. 

After  reading  this  item  I  began  studying  the 
papers  more  closely,  and  I  was  surprised  at  the 
frequency  with  which  items  of  this  kind  oc- 
curred. I  learned  that  the  Local  Government 
Board,  which  is  represented  in  the  English 
Cabinet  by  Mr.  John  Burns,  has  issued  since 
1 87 1  an  annual  report,  or  return,  as  it  is  called, 


THE  MAN  AT  THE  BOTTOM  29 

of  the  cases  in  which,  upon  formal  investigation 
by  a  coroner's  jury,  it  appears  that  the  persons 
came  to  their  death  in  London  as  a  result 
of  starvation.  I  obtained  a  copy  of  the  return 
for  1908,  in  which  are  included  the  statistics  on 
starvation  not  merely  for  London  but  for  the 
rest  of  England  and  Wales. 

The  forms  issued  to  coroners  were  explicit. 
They  provided  that  the  return  should  include 
only  cases  in  which  the  jury  found  that  death  was 
brought  about  by  starvation  or  privation  due 
to  destitution.  Cases  in  which  death  was 
caused  by  cold,  starvation,  exposure,  etc.,  un- 
connected with  destitution,  were  not  entered  in 
this  return.  Of  the  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  cases  of  starvation  reported,  fifty-two  oc- 
curred in  London.  In  eleven  cases  death  was 
described  as  due  to  starvation  in  conjunction 
with  some  other  cause  —  that  is  to  say,  disease, 
drink,  exposure,  or  self-neglect.  In  eighty  of  the 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five  cases  no  application 
was  made  for  poor  relief,  or  application  was  made 
only  when  the  deceased  had  been  in  a  dying  con- 
dition. 

A  few  days  after  I  had  succeeded  in  getting 
this  report  my  attention  was  attracted  one 
morning  by  the  heading  of  a  newspaper  article: 
"How  the  Poor  Die."  The  article  was  an  ac- 
count of  the  finding  of  the  body  of  an  unknown 


30  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

woman  in  a  cellar  in  the  basement  of  a  house 
not  very  far  from  where  I  was  stopping. 

"It  appears,"  the  article  said,  "that  during 
the  earlier  part  of  the  morning  a  tenant  of  the 
building  observed  a  woman  sleeping  in  the  cel- 
lar, but  no  particular  notice  was  taken  of  this 
because  of  the  fact  that  strangers  frequently 
utilized  the  cellar  for  such  purposes.  Mr.  Oli- 
ver, one  of  the  occupants  of  the  building,  had 
occasion  to  go  downstairs,  and  saw  the  woman. 
She  was  crouched  in  a  corner  and  her  head  was 
lying  back.  The  police  were  called  in  and  the 
services  of  Doctor  Barton  were  requisitioned. 
.  .  .  Although  the  cause  of  death  will 
not  be  known  until  a  post-mortem  exami- 
nation of  the  body  has  been  made,  death,  it  is 
thought,  was  due  to  starvation.  The  woman 
was  about  six  feet  in  height,  between  forty  and 
fifty  years  of  age,  and  was  in  a  very  emaciated 
condition  and  clad  in  very  scanty  attire. " 

Not  infrequently,  when  in  my  public  speeches 
I  have  made  some  reference  to  the  condition  of 
the  Negro  in  the  South,  certain  members  of 
my  own  race  in  the  North  have  objected  be- 
cause, they  said,  I  did  not  paint  conditions 
in  the  South  black  enough.  During  my  stay 
in  England  I  had  the  unusual  experience  of 
being  criticised  in  the  London  newspapers  for 
the   same   reason,   this   time   by   an  American 


THE  MAN  AT  THE  BOTTOM  31 

white  man.  At  the  very  moment  that  this  man 
attacked  me  because  in  my  public  interviews  I 
emphasized  the  opportunities  rather  than  the 
wrongs  of  the  Negro  in  the  South  I  had  in  my 
possession  the  document  to  which  I  have  re- 
ferred, which  gives  the  official  history  of  fifty- 
two  persons,  one  for  every  week  in  the  year, 
who  had  died  in  the  city  of  London  alone  for 
want  of  food. 

I  have  never  denied  that  the  Negro  in  the 
South  frequently  meets  with  wrong  and  in- 
justice; but  he  does  not  starve.  I  do  not  think 
a  single  case  was  ever  heard  of,  in  the  South, 
where  a  Negro  died  from  want  of  food.  In 
fact,  unless  because  of  sickness  or  some  other 
reason  he  has  been  unable  to  work,  it  is  compar- 
atively rare  to  find  a  Negro  in  an  almshouse. 

It  has  not  been  my  purpose  in  anything  I 
have  written  to  pass  judgment  upon  the  people 
or  the  conditions  that  I  have  found  in  the 
countries  which  I  have  visited.  Criticism  is  an 
ungrateful  task  at  best,  and  one  for  which  I  am 
not  well  fitted.  Neither  shall  I  attempt  to 
ofi'er  any  suggestions  as  to  how  conditions  may 
be  improved;  in  fact,  I  am  convinced  from  what 
I  learned  that  the  people  on  the  ground  under- 
stand conditions  much  better  than  I  possibly 
could,  and  in  a  later  chapter  I  hope  to  tell  some- 
thing of  the  great  work  that  has  been  done  in 


X 


^^  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

England  and  elsewhere  to  raise  the  level  of  life 
and  comfort  among  the  people  who  are  at  the 
bottom  in  the  countries  which  I  visited.  What 
I  am  anxious  to  do  here  is  to  emphasize  some  of 
the  advantages  which  it  seems  the  members  of 
my  own  race,  and  particularly  those  living  in  the 
Southern  States,  have  at  the  present  time.  It 
is  not  difficult  to  discover  the  disadvantages 
under  which  the  Negroes  in  the  South  labour. 
Every  traveller  who  passes  through  the  South 
sees  the  conditions  existing,  and  frequently 
returns  to  write  books  about  them.  There  is 
danger,  however,  that  the  opportunities  to  which 
I  have  referred  will  be  overlooked  or  not  fully 
appreciated  by  the  members  of  my  race  until 
it  is  too  late. 

One  direction  in  which  the  Negro  in  the  South 
has  an  advantage  is  in  the  matter  of  labour. 
One  of  the  most  pitiful  things  I  saw  in  Lon- 
don, Liverpool,  and  other  English  cities  was  the 
groups  of  idle  men  standing  about  on  the  street 
corners,  especially  around  the  bar-rooms,  be- 
cause they  were  not  able  to  get  work. 

One  day,  as  I  was  going  along  one  of  the  main 
avenues  of  the  city,  I  noticed  an  unusually  large 
crowd  standing  in  front  of  a  street  organ  which 
was  drawn  up  at  the  side  of  the  pavement. 
Pausing  to  see  what  there  was  about  this  organ 
that  attracted  so  much  attention  and  interest. 


THE  MAN  AT  THE  BOTTOM  33 

I  found  that  the  man  who  owned  this  instru- 
ment was  using  it  as  a  method  of  advertising  his 
poverty. 

All  over  the  front  of  the  organ  were  plastered 
papers  and  documents  of  various  kinds.  On  one 
side  there  was  a  list  of  advertisements  cut  from 
the  "Want"  columns  of  the  daily  newspapers. 
Attached  to  this  was  a  statement  that  these 
were  some  of  the  places  that  the  man  had 
visited  the  day  before  in  search  of  work,  which 
he  was  not  able  to  find.  On  the  other  side  of 
the  organ  were  attached  six  or  seven  pawn 
tickets,  with  the  statement  that  "these  are  some 
of  the  articles  which  my  dear  wife  pawned  to 
get  food  for  our  children."  This  was  followed 
by  a  pitiful  appeal  for  help.  The  pathetic 
thing  about  it  was  that  the  only  persons  who 
stopped  to  look  at  these  exhibits  besides  my- 
self were  a  group  of  hungry  and  disreputable- 
looking  men  who  were  evidently  in  just  as  great 
want  as  the  man  who  ground  the  organ.  I 
watched  those  men.  After  reading  the  signs 
they  would  look  inquiringly  at  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  group  and  then  relapse  into  the  same 
stolid  silence  which  I  had  noticed  so  many 
times  in  the  forlorn  figures  that  filled  the  benches 
of  the  parks. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  they  both  pitied  and 
admired  the  man  who  had  conceived  this  novel 


34  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

way  of  advertising  his  misfortune.  I  have 
noticed  these  same  people  in  other  cases  where 
it  seemed  to  me  they  looked  with  something 
like  envy  upon  a  beggar  who  was  blind  or  lame 
or  had  some  other  interesting  misfortune 
which  enabled  him  to  win  the  sympathy  of  the 
public. 

Of  course  the  persons  that  I  have  attempted 
to  describe  do  not  represent  the  labouring  classes. 
They  represent  the  man  at  the  bottom,  who  lives 
by  begging  or  casual  labour.  It  shows,  neverthe- 
less, how  bitter  is  the  struggle  for  existence  among 
the  labouring  class  higher  up,  that  the  class  be- 
low, the  class  which  lives  in  actual  poverty,  is  so 
large  and  so  much  in  evidence. 

While  I  was  in  London  I  received  letters  from 
a  great  many  persons  of  all  classes  and  con- 
ditions. One  of  these  was  from  a  coloured  man 
who  was  born  and  raised  in  the  South  and  was 
anxious  to  get  back  home.  I  am  tempted  to 
quote  some  passages  of  his  letter  here,  because 
they  show  how  conditions  impressed  a  coloured 
man  from  the  South  who  got  closer  to  them  than 
I  was  able  to.  He  had  been  living,  he  said, 
in   London  for  fourteen  months  without  work. 

"I  have  tried  to  apply  for  work,"  he  con- 
tinued. "They  said  they  want  Englishmen. 
It  seems  to  me  that  all  Britain  are  against  the 
Negro  race.     Some  say,  *Go  back  to  your  own 


THE  MAN  AT  THE  BOTTOM  35 

country,'  knowing  if  I  had  the  means  I  would 
fly  to-morrow. " 

Perhaps  I  would  do  better  to  quote  some 
passages  from  his  letter  verbatim.     He  says: 

I  cannot  get  a  passage;  to  be  alone  in  London  without  any 
help  or  funds,  like  a  pin  in  a  haystack,  nothing  but  sorrow  and 
distress.  Hearing  Mr.  B.  T.  Washington  were  in  London  I 
appeal  to  him  in  the  name  of  God  Almighty  if  he  can  possibly 
help  me  with  a  ticket  to  get  across,  because  the  lady  that  was 
kind  enough  to  give  me  a  shelter  is  without  fund  herself;  being  a 
Christian  woman  she  gave  me  food  for  what  she  can  afford. 
At  night  I  have  to  sleep  in  a  house  with  a  widow  which  has  two 
children  which  has  to  make  her  living  by  chopping  wood, 
whom  some  day,  does  not  earn  enough  to  buy  a  loaf  of  bread  for 
her  children.  The  winter  is  coming  on  and  I  like  to  get  home 
to  shuck  corn  or  to  get  to  Maryland  for  a  oyster  draggin.  It  is 
a  long  time  since  I  had  watermelon,  pig's  feet  and  corn.  Say, 
Mr.  Washington,  if  you  ever  knew  what  a  man  in  a  hole  is  I 
guess  I  am  in  a  hole  and  the  cover  over.  I  can  see  the  pork 
chops  and  the  corn  bread  and  the  hot  biscuits  calling  me  to  come 
over  and  get  some  and  many  a  time  I  have  tried  but  failed.  I 
can't  reach  them;  the  great  Atlantic  Ocean  stop  me  and  I  remain 

Your  Obedient  Servant, 

This  letter  from  which  I  have  given  a  few 
extracts  is  but  one  of  many  which  I  received  dur- 
ing my  stay  in  London,  not  only  from  coloured 
but  from  white  Americans  who  had  come  to 
England  to  better  their  condition  or  seek  their 
fortune. 

These  letters  served  still  further  to  impress 
me  with  the  fact  that  the  masses  of  my  own 
people  in  the  South  do  not  fully  appreciate  the 


36  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

advantages  which  they  have  in  living  in  a 
country  where  there  is  a  constant  demand  for 
labour  of  all  kinds  and  where  even  poor  people 
do  not  starve. 

If  I  were  asked  what  I  believed  would  be  the 
greatest  boon  that  could  be  conferred  upon  the 
English  labourer,  I  should  say  that  it  would  be 
for  him  to  have  the  same  opportunities  for 
constant  and  steady  work  that  the  Negro  now 
has  in  the  South.  If  I  were  asked  what  would 
be  the  next  greatest  benefit  that  could  be  con- 
ferred upon  the  English  labourer,  I  should  say 
that  it  would  be  to  have  schools  in  which  every 
class  could  learn  to  do  some  one  thing  well  — 
to  have,  in  other  words,  the  benefit  of  the  kind 
of  industrial  education  that  we  are  seeking,  in 
some  measure,  to  give  to  the  Negro  at  the 
present  time  in  the  Southern  States. 


CHAPTER  III 

FROM    PETTICOAT    LANE   TO    SKIBO    CASTLE 

THE  first  thing   about   London   that  im- 
pressed me  was  its  size;  the  second  was 
the  wide  division  between  the  different 
elements  in  the  population. 

London  is  not  only  the  largest  city  in  the 
world;  it  is  also  the  city  in  which  the  segrega- 
tion of  the  classes  has  gone  farthest.  The  West 
End,  for  example,  is  the  home  of  the  King  and 
the  Court.  Here  are  the  Houses  of  Parliament, 
Westminster  Abbey,  the  British  Museum,  most 
of  the  historical  monuments,  the  art  galleries, 
and  nearly  everything  that  is  interesting,  re- 
fined, and  beautiful  in  the  lives  of  seven  millions 
of  people  who  make  up  the  inhabitants  of  the 
city. 

If  you  take  a  cab  at  Trafalgar  Square,  how- 
ever, and  ride  eastward  down  the  Strand  through 
Fleet  Street,  where  all  the  principal  newspapers 
of  London  are  published,  past  the  Bank  of 
England,  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  and  the  interest- 
ing sights  and  scenes  of  the  older  part  of  the 
city,  you   come,   all  of  a  sudden,   into  a  very 

37 


38  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

different  region,  the  centre  of  which  Is  the 
famous  Whitechapel. 

The  difference  between  the  East  End  and  the 
West  End  of  London  is  that  East  London  has 
no  monuments,  no  banks,  no  hotels,  theatres, 
art  galleries;  no  history — nothing  that  is  interest- 
ing and  attractive  but  its  poverty  and  its 
problems.  Everything  else  is  drab  and  com- 
monplace. 

It  is,  however,  a  mistake,  as  I  soon  learned, 
to  assume  that  East  London  is  a  slum.  It  Is, 
in  fact,  a  city  by  itself,  and  a  very  remarkable 
city,  for  it  has,  including  what  you  may  call  Its 
suburbs.  East  Ham  and  West  Ham,  a  population 
of  something  over  two  millions,  made  up  for 
the  most  part  of  hard-working,  thrifty  labouring 
people.  It  has  its  dark  places,  also,  but  I 
visited  several  parts  of  London  during  my  stay 
in  the  city  which  were  considerably  worse  in 
every  respect  than  anything  I  saw  in  the  East 
End. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  said  that  more  than  one 
hundred  thousand  of  the  people  In  this  part  of 
the  city,  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  that  have 
been  made  to  help  them,  are  living  on  the  verge 
of  starvation.  So  poor  and  so  helpless  are 
these  people  that  it  was,  at  one  time,  seriously 
proposed  to  separate  them  from  the  rest  of  the 
population  and  set  them  off  in  a  city  by  them- 


TO  SKIBO  CASTLE  39 

selves,  where  they  could  live  and  work  entirely 
under  the  direction  of  the  state.  It  was  pro- 
posed to  put  this  hundred  thousand  of  the  very 
poor  under  the  direction  and  care  of  the  state 
because  they  were  not  able  to  take  care  of  them- 
selves, and  because  it  was  declared  that  all  the 
service  which  they  rendered  the  community 
could  be  performed  by  the  remaining  portion 
of  the  population  in  their  leisure  moments,  so 
that  they  were,  in  fact,  not  a  help  but  a  hin- 
drance to  the  life  of  the  city  as  a  whole. 

I  got  my  first  view  of  one  of  the  characteristic 
sights  of  the  East  End  life  at  Middlesex  Street, 
or  Petticoat  Lane,  as  it  was  formerly  called. 
Petticoat  Lane  is  in  the  centre  of  the  Jewish 
quarter,  and  on  Sunday  morning  there  is  a 
famous  market  in  this  street.  On  both  sides 
of  the  thoroughfare,  running  northward  from 
Whitechapel  Road  until  they  lose  themselves 
in  some  of  the  side  streets,  one  sees  a  double  line 
of  pushcarts,  upon  which  every  imaginable  sort 
of  ware,  from  wedding  rings  to  eels  in  jelly, 
is  exposed  for  sale.  On  both  sides  of  these 
carts  and  in  the  middle  of  the  street  a  motley 
throng  of  bargain-hunters  are  pushing  their  way 
through  the  crowds,  stopping  to  look  over  the 
curious  wares  in  the  carts  or  to  listen  to  the 
shrill  cries  of  some  hawker  selling  painkiller  or 
some  other  sort  of  magic  cure-all. 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

Nearly  all  of  the  merchants  are  Jews,  but 
the  majority  of  their  customers  belong  to  the 
tribes  of  the  Gentiles.  Among  others  I  noticed 
a  class  of  professional  customers.  They  were 
evidently  artisans  of  some  sort  or  other  who  had 
come  to  pick  out  from  the  goods  exposed  for 
sale  a  plane  or  a  saw  or  some  other  sort  of  second- 
hand tool;  there  were  others  searching  for  use- 
ful bits  of  old  iron,  bolts,  brass,  springs,  keys, 
and  other  things  of  that  sort  which  they  would 
be  able  to  turn  to  some  use  in  their  trades. 

I  spent  an  hour  or  more  wandering  through 
this  street  and  the  neighbouring  lane  into 
which  this  petty  pushcart  traffic  had  over- 
flowed. Second-hand  clothing,  second-hand 
household  articles,  the  waste  meats  of  the  Sat- 
urday market,  all  kinds  of  wornout  and  cast-oif 
articles  which  had  been  fished  out  of  the  junk 
heaps  of  the  city  or  thrust  out  of  the  regular 
channels  of  trade,  find  here  a  ready  market. 

I  think  that  the  thing  which  impressed  me 
most  was  not  the  poverty,  which  was  evident 
enough,  but  the  sombre  tone  of  the  crowd 
and  the  whole  proceeding.  It  was  not  a  happy 
crowd;  there  were  no  bright  colours,  and  very 
little  laughter.  It  was  an  ill-dressed  crowd, 
made  up  of  people  who  had  long  been  accus- 
tomed to  live,  as  it  were,  at  second-hand  and 
In  close  relations  with  the  pawnbroker. 


TO  SKIBO  CASTLE'  41 

In  the  Southern  States  it  would  be  hard  to  find 
a  coloured  man  who  did  not  make  some  change 
in  his  appearance  on  Sunday.  The  Negro 
labourer  is  never  so  poor  that  he  forgets  to 
put  on  a  clean  collar  or  a  bright  necktie  or 
something  out  of  the  ordinary  out  of  respect 
for  the  Sabbath.  In  the  midst  of  this  busy, 
pushing  throng  it  was  hard  for  me  to  remember 
that  I  was  in  England  and  that  it  was  Sunday. 
Somehow  or  other  I  had  got  a  very  different 
notion  of  the  English  Sabbath. 

Petticoat  Lane  is  in  the  midst  of  the  "sweat- 
ing" district,  where  most  of  the  cheap  clothing 
in  London  is  made.  Through  windows  and 
open  doors  I  could  see  the  pale  faces  of  the 
garment-makers  bent  over  their  work.  There 
is  much  furniture  made  in  this  region,  also,  I 
understand.  Looking  down  into  some  of  the 
cellars  as  I  passed,  I  saw  men  working  at  the 
lathes.  Down  at  the  end  of  the  street  was  a 
bar-room,  which  was  doing  a  rushing  business. 
The  law  in  London  is,  as  I  understand,  that 
travellers  may  be  served  at  a  public  bar  on 
Sunday,  but  not  others.  To  be  a  traveller,  a 
bona-fide  traveller,  you  must  have  come  from 
a  distance  of  at  least  three  miles.  There  were 
a  great  many  travellers  in  Petticoat  Lane  on 
the  Sunday  morning  that  I  was  there. 

This  same  morning  I  visited  Bethnal  Green, 


42  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

another  and  a  quite  different  quarter  of  the 
East  End.  There  are  a  number  of  these  differ- 
ent quarters  of  the  East  End,  like  Stepney, 
Poplar,  St.  George's  In  the  East,  and  so  forth. 
Each  of  these  has  its  peculiar  type  of  popula- 
tion and  its  own  peculiar  conditions.  White- 
chapel  Is  Jewish;  St.  George's  in  the  East  is 
Jewish  at  one  end  and  Irish  at  the  other,  but 
Bethnal  Green  is  English.  For  nearly"  half  a 
mile  along  Bethnal  Green  Road  I  found  another 
Sunday  market  In  full  swing,  and  It  was,  if 
anything,  louder  and  more  picturesque  than 
the  one  in  Petticoat  Lane 

It  was  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning; 
the  housewives  of  Bethnal  Green  were  out  on 
the  street  hunting  bargains  in  meat  and  vege- 
tables for  the  Sunday  dinner.  One  of  the  most 
interesting  groups  I  passed  was  crowded  about 
a  pushcart  where  three  sturdy  old  women, 
shouting  at  the  top  of  their  lungs,  were  reeling 
off  bolt  after  bolt  of  cheap  cotton  cloth  to  a 
crowd  of  women  gathered  about  their  cart. 

At  another  point  a  man  was  "  knocking  down  " 
at  auction  cheap  cuts  of  frozen  beef  from 
Australia  at  prices  ranging  from  4  to  8  cents  a 
pound.  Another  was  selling  fish,  another  crock- 
ery, and  a  third  tinware,  and  so  through  the 
whole  list  of  household  staples. 

The  market  on  Bethnal  Green  Road  extends 


TO  SKIBO  CASTLE  .      43 

across  a  street  called  Brick  Lane  and  branches 
off  again  from  that  into  other  and  narrower 
streets.  In  one  of  these  there  is  a  market 
exclusively  for  birds,  and  another  for  various 
sorts  of  fancy  articles  not  of  the  first  neces- 
sity. The  interesting  thing  about  all  this 
traffic  was  that,  although  no  one  seemed  to 
exercise  any  sort  of  control  over  it,  somehow 
the  different  classes  of  trade  had  managed  to 
organize  themselves  so  that  all  the  wares  of 
one  particular  sort  wxre  displayed  in  one  place 
and  all  the  wares  of  another  sort  in  another, 
everything  in  regular  and  systematic  order. 
The  streets  were  so  busy  and  crowded  that  I 
wondered  if  there  were  any  people  left  in  that 
part  of  the  town  to  attend  the  churches. 

One  of  the  marvels  of  London  is  the  number 
of  handsome  and  stately  churches.  One  meets 
these  beautiful  edifices  everywhere,  not  merely 
in  the  West  End,  where  there  is  wealth  suf- 
ficient to  build  and  support  them,  but  in 
the  crowded  streets  of  the  business  part  of  the 
city,  where  there  are  no  longer  any  people  to 
attend  them.  Even  in  the  grimiest  precincts 
of  the  East  End,  where  all  is  dirt  and  squalor, 
one  is  likely  to  come  unexpectedly  upon  one  of 
these  beautiful  old  churches,  with  its  quiet 
churchyard  and  little  space  of  green,  recalling 


44  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

the  time  when  the  region,  which  is  now  crowded 
with  endless  rows  of  squalid  city  dwellings,  was, 
perhaps,  dotted  with  pleasant  country  villages. 
These  churches  are  beautiful,  but  as  far  as  I 
could  see  they  were,  for  the  most  part,  silent 
and  empty.  The  masses  of  the  people  enjoy  the 
green  spaces  outside,  but  do  not  as  a  rule,  I 
fear,  attend  the  services  on  the  inside.  They 
are  too  busy. 

It  is  not  because  the  churches  are  not  making 
an  effort  to  reach  the  people  that  the  masses  do 
not  go  to  them.  One  has  only  to  read  the 
notices  posted  outside  of  any  of  the  church 
buildings  in  regard  to  night  schools,  lectures, 
men's  clubs  and  women's  clubs,  and  many  other 
organizations  of  various  sorts,  to  know  that 
there  is  much  earnestness  and  effort  on  the 
part  of  the  churches  to  reach  down  and  help 
the  people.  The  trouble  seems  to  be  that  the 
people  are  not  at  the  same  time  reaching  up  to 
the  church.  It  is  one  of  the  results  of  the  dis- 
tance between  the  classes  that  rule  and  the 
classes  that  work.  It  is  too  far  from  White- 
chapel  to  St.  James's  Park.  What  Mr.  Kipling 
says,  in  another  connection,  seems  to  be  true  of 
London : 

"The  East  is  East,  and  the  West  is  West, 
And  never  these  twain  shall  meet. " 


TO  SKIBO  CASTLE  45 

While  on  one  side  of  Bethnal  Green  Road  the 
hucksters  were  shouting  and  the  crowd  was  busy 
dickering  and  chaffering  for  food  and  clothes, 
I  noticed  on  the  other  side  of  the  street  a  way- 
side preacher.  I  went  over  and  listened  to 
what  he  had  to  say,  and  then  I  noted  the  effect 
of  his  words  upon  his  hearers.  He  had  gathered 
about  him  perhaps  a  dozen  persons,  most  of 
them,  however,  seeming  to  be  his  own  adherents 
who  had  come  out  to  the  meeting  merely  to 
give  him  the  benefit  of  their  moral  support. 
The  great  mass  of  the  people  who  passed  up  and 
down  the  street  did  not  pay  the  slightest  at- 
tention to  him.  There  was  no  doubt  about 
the  earnestness  and  sincerity  of  the  man,  but 
as  I  listened  to  what  he  had  to  say  I  could  find 
in  his  words  nothing  that  seemed  to  me  to  touch 
in  any  direct  or  definite  way  the  lives  of  the 
people  about  him.  In  fact,  I  doubted  whether 
the  majority  of  them  could  really  understand 
what  he  was  talking  about. 

Somewhat  later,  in  another  part  of  the  city, 
I  had  an  opportunity  to  listen  to  another  of 
these  street  preachers.  In  this  case  he  was  a 
young  man,  apparently  fresh  from  college,  and 
he  was  making  a  very  genuine  effort,  as  it 
seemed  to  me,  to  reach  and  influence  in  a  prac- 
tical way  the  people  whom  the  lights  of  the 
torches    and   the   music   had   attracted   to   the 


46  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

meeting.  I  observed  that  the  people  listened 
respectfully  to  what  he  had  to  say,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  they  were  impressed,  as  I  was,  with 
his  evident  desire  to  help  them.  It  was  only 
too  evident,  however,  that  he  was  speaking 
another  language  than  theirs;  that,  in  fact,  one 
might  almost  say  he  belonged  to  a  different 
race  of  people.  The  gulf  between  them  was 
too  great. 

After  listening  to  this  man  I  thought  I  could 
understand  in  a  way  that  I  had  not  understood 
before  the  great  success  which  the  Salvation 
Army  at  one  time  had  among  the  masses  of  the 
people  of  East  London.  In  its  early  days,  at 
least,  the  Salvation  Army  was  of  the  people; 
it  picked  its  preachers  from  the  streets;  it 
appealed  to  the  masses  it  was  seeking  to  help 
for  its  support;  in  fact,  it  set  the  slums  to  work 
to  save  itself.  The  Salvation  Army  is  not  so 
popular  in  East  London,  I  understand,  as  it 
used  to  be.  One  trouble  with  the  Salvation 
Army,  as  with  much  of  the  effort  that  has  been 
made  to  help  the  people  of  East  London,  is 
that  the  Salvation  Army  seeks  to  reach  only 
those  who  are  already  down;  it  does  not  at- 
tempt to  deal  with  the  larger  and  deeper  prob- 
lem of  saving  those  who  have  not  yet  fallen. 

The  problem  of  the  man  farthest  down, 
whether  he  lives  in  America  or  in  Europe,  and 


TO  SKIBO  CASTLE  47 

whether  he  be  black  or  white,  is,  in  my  opinion, 
not  one  of  conversion  merely,  but  of  education 
as  well.  It  is  necessary,  in  other  words,  to 
inspire  the  masses  in  the  lower  strata  of  life 
with  a  disposition  to  live  a  sober,  honest,  and 
useful  life,  but  it  is  necessary  also  to  give  them 
an  opportunity  and  a  preparation  to  live  such  a 
life  after  they  have  gained  the  disposition  to 
do  so. 

The  Negro  in  America,  whatever  his  draw- 
backs in  other  directions,  is  not  indifferent  to 
religious  influences.  The  Negro  is  not  only 
naturally  religious,  but  the  religion  he  enjoys 
in  America  is  his  own  in  a  sense  that  is  not  true, 
it  seems  to  me,  of  much  of  the  religious  life  and 
work  among  the  people  of  East  London. 

The  most  powerful  and  influential  organi- 
zation among  the  Negroes  in  America  to-day 
is  the  Negro  church,  and  the  Negroes  sup- 
port their  own  churches.  They  not  only  sup- 
port the  churches  and  the  ministers,  but  they 
support  also  a  large  number  of  schools  and 
colleges  in  which  their  children,  and  especially 
those  who  desire  to  be  ministers,  may  get  their 
education.  These  little  theological  seminaries 
are  frequently  poorly  equipped  and  lacking 
in  almost  everything  but  good  intentions;  they 
are  generally,  however,  as  good  as  the  people 
are  able  to  make  them.     The    Negro    ministers 


48  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

in  the  backwoods  districts  of  the  South  are 
frequently  rude  and  ignorant  and  sometimes 
immoral,  but  they  have  this  advantage,  that 
they  spring  from  and  represent  the  people, 
and  the  religion  which  they  preach  is  a  religion 
which  has  grown  up  in  response  to  the  actual 
needs  and  feelings  of  the  masses  of"  the  Negro 
people.  In  other  words,  the  religion  of  the 
Negro  in  America  is  on  a  sound  basis,  because 
the  Negro  church  has  never  got  out  of  touch 
with  the  masses  of  the  Negro  people. 

After  leaving  East  London  on  my  first  Sunday 
in  England,  I  drove  about  fifteen  miles  through 
the  famous  Epping  Forest  to  Waltham  Abbey, 
the  country  seat  of  Sir  T.  Fowell  Buxton,  a 
grandson  of  Sir  T.  Fowell  Buxton,  who  succeeded 
Wilberforce  as  leader  of  the  anti-slavery  party 
in  parliament,  and  who  framed  the  bill  that 
finally  resulted  in  the  emancipation  of  the 
slaves  in  the  English  West  Indies. 

There  is  certainly  no  more  beautiful  country  to 
look  upon  than  rural  England.  Flowering  vines 
cover  the  humble  cottage  of  the  farm  labourer 
as  wxU  as  the  luxurious  country  seats  of  the 
landowners,  and  lend  a  charm  to  everything  the 
eye  rests  upon.  I  was  all  the  more  impressed  with 
the  blooming  freshness  of  the  country  because  I  had 
come  out  of  the  stifling  life  of  the  crowded  city. 
I  learned,  however,  that  rural  England  has  for 


TO  SKIBO  CASTLE  49 

a  long  time  past  been  steadily  losing  its  popula- 
tion. From  1 89 1  to  1900  it  is  said  that  the  num- 
ber of  farm  labourers  in  England  decreased  20  per 
cent.,  and  it  has  been  estimated  that  the  rural 
population  of  England  and  Wales  has  diminished 
something  like  30  or  40  per  cent,  during  the 
past  century,  at  a  time  when  the  urban  popu- 
lation has  multiplied  itself  many  times  over. 

There  are,  of  course,  many  reasons  for  this 
decrease  in  the  agricultural  population.  One  is, 
that  at  the  present  time  not  more  than  15 
per  cent,  of  the  land  in  England  is  farmed 
by  the  people  who  own  it.  Thirty-eight  thou- 
sand landowners  hold  four  fifths  of  all  the 
agricultural  land  in  England. 

A  few  days  after  my  visit  to  Sir  Powell  Bux- 
ton at  Waltham  Abbey  I  went  into  northern 
Scotland  to  visit  Mr.  Andrew  Carnegie  at  Skibo 
Castle.  While  I  was  there  I  had  opportunity  to 
get  some  sort  of  acquaintance  with  farming  con- 
ditions in  that  part  of  the  world. 

In  Scotland  the  opportunities  for  the  small 
farmer  to  obtain  land  are  even  less  than  they 
are  in  England.  Some  years  ago,  it  is  said, 
twenty-four  persons  in  Scotland  owned  estates 
of  more  than  100,000  acres.  The  Duke  of 
Sutherland  owns  a  tract  stretching,  I  was  told, 
clear  across  Scotland  from  coast  to  coast. 

In  no  country  in  the  world  is  so  small  a  portion 


50  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

of  the  population  engaged  In  agriculture  as  is  true 
in  England.  For  instance,  68  per  cent,  of  the 
population  of  Hungary,  59  per  cent,  of  the 
population  of  Italy,  48  per  cent,  of  the  popu- 
lation of  Denmark,  37.5  per  cent,  of  the  popu- 
lation of  the  United  States  are  engaged  in 
agriculture.  In  England  and  in  Wales  in  1901 
only  8  per  cent,  were  engaged  in  agriculture. 

Not  only  is  it  true  that  a  larger  proportion 
of  the  population  of  England  than  of  other 
countries  has  removed  from  the  country  to 
the  city,  but  In  England,  also,  the  distance 
between  the  man  in  the  city  and  the  man  on  the 
soil  is  greater  than  elsewhere.  For  example, 
in  Italy  the  distinction  between  the  agricultural 
labourer  and  the  labourer  in  the  city  may  be 
said  hardly  to  exist;  the  man  who,  at  one  part 
of  the  year,  finds  work  In  the  city,  is  very  likely 
to  be  found  at  work  at  some  other  time  of  the 
year  in  the  country. 

In  Germany  also  I  noticed  that  a  great  many 
of  the  manufacturing  plants  were  located  in 
the  country,  where  the  factory  labourer  had  an 
opportunity  to  cultivate  a  small  patch  of  land. 
To  the  extent  that  he  has  been  able  to  raise  his 
own  food,  the  factory  hand  In  Germany  has  made 
himself  independent  of  the  manufacturers  and 
the  market. 

In  Hungary  I  was  told  that  in  harvest  time 


TO  SKIBO  CASTLE  51 

the  public  works  were  deserted  and  many  of 
the  factories  were  compelled  to  shut  down, 
because  every  one  went  away  to  the  country 
to   work    in    the   fields. 

Now,  the  thing  that  interested  me  in  ob- 
serving the  vast  dislocation  of  the  rural  popu- 
lation of  England,  represented  by  this  vast 
labouring  community  of  East  London,  was  the 
extent  to  which  the  English  labourer,  in  mov- 
ing from  the  country  to  the  city,  had  lost  his 
natural  independence. 

In  losing  his  hold  upon  the  soil  the  English 
labourer  has  made  himself  peculiarly  dependent 
upon  the  organization  of  the  society  about 
him.  He  can,  for  instance,  neither  build  his 
own  home  nor  raise  his  own  food.  In  the 
city  he  must  pay  a  much  larger  rent  than  it 
would  be  necessary  for  him  to  pay  in  the  coun- 
try. He  must  work  more  steadily  in  order  to 
live,  and  he  has  to  depend  upon  some  one  else 
to  give  him  the  opportunity  to  work.  In  this 
respect,  although  the  English  labourer  is  prob- 
ably better  paid  and  better  fed  than  any  other 
labourer  in  Europe,  he  is  less  protected  from 
the  effects  of  competition.  He  is  more  likely 
to  suifer  from  the  lack  of  opportunity  to  work. 

In  the  same  way  England  as  a  whole  is  more 
dependent  upon  foreign  countries  for  the  sale 
of  its  manufactured  products  and  the  purchase 


52  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

of  its  food  supply  than  is  any  other  country  in 
Europe.  Thus  it  will  be  found  that  most  of 
the  great  questions  which  are  now  agitating 
England,  like  most  of  the  great  questions  which 
are  agitating  other  countries  in  Europe,  are 
more  or  less  directly  concerned  with  the  matter 
of  agriculture  and  the  condition  of  the  labourer 
on  the  land. 

I  said  in  the  preceding  chapter  that  one  advan- 
tage that  the  Negro  in  the  South  had  was  the  op- 
portunity to  work  for  the  asking.  The  Negro 
in  the  South  has  opportunities  in  another  di- 
rection that  no  other  man  in  his  position  has, 
outside  of  America:  he  has  the  opportunity  to 
get  land.  No  one  who  has  not  visited  Europe 
can  understand  what  the  opportunity  to  get 
land  means  to  a  race  that  has  so  recently  gained 
its  freedom. 

No  one  who  has  not  seen  something  of  the 
hardships  of  the  average  workingman  in  a  great 
city  like  London  can  understand  the  privilege 
that  we  in  the  Southern  States  have  in  living  in 
the  country  districts,  where  there  is  indepen- 
dence and  a  living  for  every  man,  and  where 
we  have  the  opportunity  to  fix  ourselves  for- 
ever on  the  soil. 


CHAPTER  IV 

FIRST    IMPRESSION    OF    LIFE    AND    LABOUR    ON 
THE    CONTINENT 

ONE  clear,  cold  morning,  about  the  first 
of  September,  I  took  a  train  at  Bonar 
Bridge,  in  the  north  of  Scotland,  south- 
ward bound.  There  was  a  cold  wind  blowing, 
and  Bonar  Bridge  is  about  the  latitude,  as  I 
learned  from  looking  at  my  atlas,  of  northern 
Labrador  —  farther  north.  In  fact,  than  I  had 
ever  In  my  lifetime  dreamed  of  going. 

I  spent  the  next  four  or  five  hours  looking  out 
of  a  car  window  across  the  bleak,  brown  moors, 
studying  the  flocks  of  sheep  and  the  little  thatch- 
roofed  cottages  clinging  to  the  lonesome  hill- 
sides. 

Three  days  later  I  was  In  the  beautiful  moun- 
tain region  below  Dresden,  on  my  way  to 
Prague,  the  capital  of  Bohemia.  In  many 
ways  conditions  in  the  farming  regions  of 
Bohemia  are  quite  as  primitive  as  they  are 
among  the  crofters  of  northern  Scotland.  There 
are,  for  example,  a  larger  number  of  small 
farmers  owning  their  own  land  In  Bohemia  than 

S3 


54  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

there  are  In  Scotland,  but  the  Scottish  crofter, 
although  he  remains  a  tenant  on  a  large  estate, 
has,  at  the  present  time,  a  more  secure  position 
on  the  soil  than  the  man  who  rents  his  land  in 
Bohemia.  In  other  respects  the  Scotch  High- 
landers, whose  country  I  had  just  left,  and  the 
Czechs,  whose  country  I  was  just  entering,  are, 
I  should  say,  about  as  different  as  one  could 
well  imagine. 

Among  other  things  I  noticed  that  the  farm- 
ing people  in  this  part  of  the  world  do  not  live 
apart,  scattered  about  in  the  open  country,  as 
they  do  in  Scotland,  and  as  is  the  case  every- 
where in  America.  On  the  contrary,  the 
Bohemian  farmers  live  huddled  together  in 
little  villages,  in  the  centre  of  the  surrounding 
fields,  from  which  they  go  out  to  their  work  in 
the  morning  and  to  which  they  return  in  the 
evening. 

These  different  manners  of  settling  on  the 
soil  are  one  of  the  marks  by  which  the  people 
in  the  north  of  Europe  are  distinguished  from 
those  in  the  south.  The  northern  people  settle 
in  widely  scattered  homesteads,  while  the 
southern  people  invariably  herd  together  in 
little  villages,  and  each  individual  becomes,  to 
a  great  extent,  dependent  upon  the  community 
and  loses  himself  in  the  life  about  him.  This 
accounts,  in  large  measure,  for  the  difference 


LIFE  AND  LABOUR  ON  THE  CONTINENT  55 

in  character  of  the  northern  and  southern 
people.  In  the  north  the  people  are  more  in- 
dependent; in  the  south  they  are  more  social. 
The  northern  people  have  more  initiative;  they 
are  natural  pioneers.  The  southern  people 
are  more  docile,  and  get  on  better  under  the 
restraints  and  restrictions  of  city  life.  It  is 
said,  also,  that  this  explains  why  it  is  that  the 
people  who  are  now  coming  to  America  from 
the  south  of  Europe,  although  most  of  them 
come  from  the  land,  do  not  go  out  into  the 
country  districts  in  America,  but  prefer  to  live 
in  the  cities,  or,  as  seems  to  be  the  case  with 
the  Italians,  colonize  the  suburbs  of  the  great 
cities. 

Another  thing  that  interested  me  was  the 
sight  of  women  working  on  the  land.  I  had  not 
gone  far  on  my  way  south  from  Berlin  before 
my  attention  was  attracted  by  the  number  of 
women  in  the  fields.  As  I  proceeded  south- 
ward, the  number  of  these  women  labourers 
steadily  increased  until  they  equalled  and  even 
outnumbered  the  men.  One  of  these  I  had 
an  opportunity  to  see  close  at  hand;  she  was 
coarsely  clad,  barefoot,  and  carried  a  rake  over 
her  shoulder.  I  had  seen  pictures  of  something 
like  that  before,  but  never  the  real  thing. 

Outside  of  Italy  I  have  rarely  seen  men  going 
barefoot  either  in  the  country  or  in  the  city, 


56  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

but  in  southern  Europe  it  seems  to  be  the  cus- 
tom among  the  working  women,  and  I  took  it 
as  an  indication  of  the  lower  position  which 
women  occupy  among  the  people  of  southern 
Europe  as  compared  with  the  position  that  they 
occupy  in  America.  I  saw  many  barefoot 
women  later  in  the  course  of  my  journey,  both 
in  the  field  and  elsewhere.  I  confess,  however, 
I  was  surprised  to  meet  in  Vienna,  Austria,  as  I 
did  on  several  occasions  while  I  was  there, 
women  walking  barefoot  on  the  pavements  in 
one  of  the  most  fashionable  streets  of  the  city. 
One  day,  in  speaking  to  a  native  Austrian,  I 
expressed  my  surprise  at  what  I  had  seen. 
"Oh,  well,"  he  replied,  "they  are  Slovaks." 
How  vividly  this  reminded  me  of  a  parallel 
remark  with  which  I  was  familiar,  "Oh,  well, 
they  are  Negroes ! " 

It  was  the  tone  of  this  reply  that  caught  my 
attention.  It  emphasized  what  I  soon  dis- 
covered to  be  another  distinguishing  feature  of 
life  in  southern  Europe.  Everywhere  I  went 
in  Austria  and  Hungary  I  found  the  people 
divided  according  to  the  race  to  which  they 
belonged.  There  was  one  race  at  the  top,  an- 
other at  the  bottom,  and  then  there  were  per- 
haps two  or  three  other  races  which  occupied 
positions  relatively  higher  or  lower  in  between. 
In  most  cases  it  was  some  section  of  the  Slavic 


LIFE  AND  LABOUR  ON  THE  CONTINENT 

race,  of  which  there  are  some  five  or  six  different 
branches  in  the  Austrian  Empire,  which  was  at 
the  bottom. 

Several  times,  in  my  efforts  to  find  out  some- 
thing about  these  so-called  ''inferior  people," 
I  made  inquires  about  them  among  their  more 
successful  neighbours.  In  almost  every  case,  no 
matter  what  race  it  happened  to  be  to  which 
I  referred,  I  received  the  same  answer.  I  was 
told  that  they  were  lazy  and  would  not  work; 
that  they  had  no  initiative;  that  they  were  im- 
moral and  not  fitted  to  govern  themselves.  At 
the  same  time,  I  found  them  doing  nearly  all  the 
really  hard,  disagreeable,  and  ill-paid  labour 
that  was  being  done.  Usually  I  found,  also, 
that  with  fewer  opportunities  than  the  people 
around  them,  they  were  making  progress. 

I  was  frequently  surprised  at  the  bitterness 
between  the  races.  I  have  heard  people  talk 
more  violently,  but  I  do  not  think  I  have  heard 
any  one  say  anything  worse  in  regard  to  the 
Negro  than  some  of  the  statements  that  are 
made  by  members  of  one  race  in  Austria  in  re- 
gard to  members  of  some  other. 

I  reached  the  city  of  Prague  late  at  night, 
and  awoke  next  morning  in  a  world  that  was 
utterly  new  to  me.  It  was  not  that  Prague 
looked  so  different  from  other  European  cities 
I   had   seen,   but  the  language   sounded   more 


58  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

strange  than  anything  else  I  had  ever  heard. 
I  do  not  pretend  to  understand  German,  yet  it 
seemed  to  me  that  there  was  something  familiar 
and  friendly  about  that  language  as  compared 
with  Czech. 

The  Czechs  are  but  one  of  the  seventeen  races 
of  Austria-Hungary,  each  one  of  which,  with 
the  exception  of  the  Jews,  who  are  an  exception 
to  everything,  is  seeking  to  preserve  its  own 
language,  and,  if  possible,  compel  all  its  neigh- 
bours to  learn  it.  Preserving  its  own  language  is 
not  difficult  in  the  country  districts,  where  each 
race  lives  apart  in  its  own  village  and  maintains 
its  own  peculiar  customs  and  traditions.  It  is 
more  difficult  in  the  large  cities  like  Vienna 
and  Budapest,  where  the  different  nationalities 
come  into  intimate  contact  with  each  other  and 
with  the  larger  European  world. 

There  is  a  region  in  northeastern  Hungary 
where  in  the  course  of  a  day's  ride  one  may  pass 
through,  one  after  another,  villages  inhabited 
by  as  many  as  five  different  races  —  Ruthenians, 
Jews,  Roumanians,  Hungarians,  and  Germans. 
A  racial  map  of  the  Dual  Empire  shows  districts 
in  which  one  race  predominates,  but  these  same 
districts  will  very  likely  be  dotted  with  villages  in 
which  the  fragments  of  other  races  still  survive, 
some  of  them,  like  the  Turks,  so  few  in  num- 
ber that   they   are   not   separately  counted  as 


LIFE  AND  LABOUR  ON  THE  CONTINENT  59 

part  of  the  population.  Under  these  circum- 
stances travel  in  this  part  of  the  world  is  made 
interesting  but  not  easy. 

Fortunately,  I  had  letters  of  introduction  to 
Dr.  Albert  W.  Clarke,  head  of  the  Austrian 
branch  of  the  American  Board  of  Missions  at 
Prague,  and  he  introduced  me  to  some  of  his 
native  assistants  who  spoke  English,  and  kindly 
assisted  me  in  finding  what  I  most  desired  to  see 
of  the  city  and  the  people.  Through  him  I  had 
an  opportunity  to  get  inside  of  some  of  the 
tenements  in  w^hich  European  people  live,  and 
to  see  some  of  the  working  people  in  their  homes. 
I  did  not  have  an  opportunity  to  explore  the 
parts  of  the  city  in  which  the  very  poor  people 
live;  in  fact,  I  was  told  that  there  was  nothing 
in  Prague  that  corresponded  to  the  slums  of  our 
English  and  American  cities.  There  is  much 
poverty,  but  it  is  poverty  of  a  self-respecting 
sort  —  not  of  those  who  have  been  defeated  and 
gone  under,  but  of  those  who  have  never  got 
up. 

I  found  the  average  Bohemian  workman  liv- 
ing in  two  rooms  and  working  for  wages  con- 
siderably less  than  the  same  kind  of  labour 
would  have  brought  in  England,  and  very 
much  less  than  the  same  kind  of  labour  would 
have  brought  in  America.  There  is,  however, 
very   little   use  in   comparing  the  w^ages    that 


6o  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

men  earn  unless  you  are  able  to  compare  all  the 
surrounding  conditions. 

During  my  stay  in  Prague  I  had  an  op- 
portunity to  see  something  close  at  hand  of  the 
life  of  the  farming  population.  Under  the 
guidance  of  one  of  Doctor  Clarke's  assistants  I 
drove  out  one  day  to  a  little  village  where  there 
were  a  number  of  people  who  had  come  under 
the  influence  of  the  American  Mission  in  Prague, 
and  where  I  was  assured  I  should  find  a  welcome. 

It  was  not,  perhaps,  the  best  place  to  get  an 
idea  of  what  is  most  characteristic  in  Bohemian 
country  life.  I  had  hoped  to  see  something  of 
the  local  customs  of  the  country  people,  but, 
though  it  was  a  holiday  when  I  made  my  visit, 
I  did  not  see  a  single  peasant  costume. 

There  are  still  many  places  in  Bohemia,  I 
understand,  where  the  people  take  pride  in 
wearing  the  national  costumes,  and  there  are 
still  many  parts  of  the  Austrian  Empire  where 
relics  of  the  older  civilization  linger.  Indeed,  I 
heard  of  places  where,  it  is  said,  the  peasants  are 
still  paying  the  old  feudal  dues;  in  other  places 
the  old  unfree  condition  of  the  peasants  is  still 
continued  in  the  form  of  peonage,  as  it  may  still 
be  sometimes  found  in  our  Southern  States. 
In  this  case  the  peasants  have  got  themselves 
into  debt  for  land.  They  are  not  allowed  to 
work  off  this  debt,  and  this  serves  as  a  pretence 


LIFE  AND  LABOUR  ON  THE  CONTINENT   6i 

for  keeping  them  bound  to  the  soil.  But  edu- 
cation and  the  growth  of  manufacturing  in- 
dustries have  banished  the  traces  of  the  older 
civilization  from  the  greater  part  of  Bohemia. 

In  the  village  which  I  visited,  as  in  most  of 
the  farming  villages  in  this  part  of  the  world, 
the  houses  of  the  farmers  stand  in  a  row  quite 
close  together  on  either  side  of  the  street.  In 
the  rear  are  the  quarters  of  the  servants,  the 
storehouses  and  the  stables,  the  pig-stys  and  the 
cow-stalls,  all  closely  connected,  so  that  it  was 
often  a  little  uncertain  to  me  where  the  quarters 
for  the  servants  left  off  and  those  for  the  ani- 
mals began.  In  fact,  in  some  places  no  very 
definite  distinction  was  made. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  places  that  I 
visited  during  my  stay  in  this  village  was  a 
dairy  farm  which  was  conducted  by  a  Jew.  He 
was  evidently  one  of  those  of  the  lower  or  middle 
class  —  a  type  one  hears  much  of  in  Europe  — 
who,  with  very  little  knowledge  or  skill  in  the 
actual  work  of  agriculture,  have  succeeded  by 
their  superior  business  skill  in  getting  possession 
of  the  land  and  reducing  the  peasant  to  a 
position  not  much  better  than  that  of  a  serf. 
This  man  not  only  kept  a  dairy  farm  but  he 
operated  two  or  three  brickyards  besides,  and 
had  other  extensive  business  interests  in  the 
village.     Although  he  was  a  man  of  wealth  and 


62  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

intelligence,  he  had  his  dwelling  in  the  midst 
of  a  compound  around  which  were  grouped 
houses  for  his  labourers,  cow-stalls,  a  wheel- 
wright and  blacksmith  shop,  places  for  pigs, 
chickens,  and  dogs,  the  whole  in  a  condition  of 
indescribable  disorder  and  filth. 

The  greater  part  of  the  work  on  the  farm 
seemed  to  be  done  by  women,  most  of  whom 
were  barefooted  or  wore  wooden  shoes.  I  do 
not  think  I  have  seen  any  one  wearing  wooden 
shoes  before  since  the  days  of  slavery.  They 
had  remained  in  my  mind  as  the  symbol  of 
poverty  and  degradation;  but  they  are  worn 
everywhere  in  country  districts  in  Europe.  In 
fact,  I  remember  in  one  instance,  when  I  visited 
an  agricultural  school,  finding  one  of  the  teachers 
working  in  the  garden  wearing  wooden  shoes. 
The  people  who  worked  on  this  farm  all  lived, 
as  far  as  I  could  see,  in  one  little  ill-smelling  and 
filthy  room.  There  was  no  sign  in  the  homes 
which  I  visited  of  those  household  industries 
for  which  Hungarian  peasants  are  noted,  and 
which  should  help  to  brighten  and  make  com- 
fortable the  simplest  home. 

I  believe  there  are  few  plantations  in  our 
Southern  States  where,  even  in  the  small  one- 
room  cabins,  one  would  not  find  the  coloured 
people  living  in  more  real  comfort  and  more 
cleanliness  than  was  the  case  here.     Even  in 


LIFE  AND  LABOUR  ON  THE  CONTINENT    63 

the  poorest  Negro  cabins  in  the  South  I  have 
found  evidences  that  the  floor  was  sometimes 
scrubbed,  and  usually  there  was  a  white  counter- 
pane on  the  bed,  or  some  evidence  of  an  effort 
to  be  tidy. 

Prague  is  one  of  the  most  ancient  cities  in 
Europe.  A  thing  that  impressed  me  with  the 
antiquity  of  the  town  was  the  fact  that  before 
the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era  there  was  a 
Jewish  quarter  in  this  city.  Prague  is  also  one 
of  the  most  modern  cities  in  Europe.  Within 
a  comparatively  few  years  large  manufacturing 
plants  have  multiplied  throughout  the  country. 
Bohemia  makes,  among  other  things,  fezzes, 
and  sells  them  to  Turkey;  raises  beans,  and  ships 
them  to  Boston. 

What  is  most  interesting  is  the  fact  that  this 
progress  has  been,  to  a  very  large  extent,  made 
possible  through  the  education  of  the  masses  of 
the  people.  The  Bohemians  are  to-day  among 
the  best  educated  people  in  Europe.  For  ex- 
ample, among  the  immigrants  who  come  from 
Europe  to  America,  24.2  per  cent,  over  fourteen 
years  of  age  are  unable  to  read  and  write.  In 
the  case  of  the  German  immigrant  not  more 
than  5.8  per  cent,  are  unable  to  read  or  write. 
In  the  case  of  the  Bohemians  the  percentage  of 
illiteracy  is  only  3  per  cent.  There  is  only  one 
class  of  immigrants  among  whom  the  percentage 


64  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

of  illiteracy  is  lower.     Among  the  Danish  im- 
migrants it  Is  0.8  per  cent. 

There  Is  no  part  of  the  Austrian  Empire  where 
education  is  more  generally  diffused  or  where 
the  schools  are  so  well  adapted  to  the  actual 
needs  of  the  people.  In  addition  to  the  or- 
dinary primary  schools  and  the  gymnasia 
(which  correspond  to  our  high  schools)  there  are 
several  higher  institutes  of  technology  which 
prepare  students  for  industry  and  commerce. 
Besides  these  state  schools  there  are  a  large 
number  of  Industrial  schools  that  are  main- 
tained by  cities  or  by  private  associations. 
Some  of  these  are  located  in  the  small  towns 
and  are  closely  connected  with  the  local  in- 
dustries. Sometimes  they  are  organized  by 
the  members  of  the  different  trades  and  crafts 
as  a  supplement  to  the  apprentice  system.  For 
example,  in  a  town  where  the  inhabitants  are 
engaged  in  the  clay  Industry,  there  will  be  found 
schools  which  give  practical  courses  in  the  mak- 
ing of  vases  and  crockery.  In  some  of  the  larger 
towns  commercial  and  industrial  instruction  is 
given  In  "continuation  schools."  In  these 
schools  girls  who  have  learned  needlework  in 
the  elementary  schools  will  be  taught  sewing, 
dressmaking,  and  embroidery  and  lace  work. 
There  are  also  courses  in  which  boys  are  pre- 
pared to  work   in   the   sugar-making,  brewing, 


LIFE  AND  LABOUR  ON  THE  CONTINENT  65 

watchmaking,  and  other  manufacturing  indus- 
tries. 

In  the  two  institutes  of  technology  in  Prague, 
one  of  w^hich  is  for  Bohemians  and  the  other 
for  Germans,  courses  are  given  which  prepare 
students  to  be  engineers,  chemists,  machinists, 
architects,  bookkeepers,  etc.  In  connection 
with  these  courses  there  are  also  special  de- 
partments where  students  are  prepared  to  be 
master  workmen  in  such  trades  as  bricklaying, 
carpentry,  cabinet-making,  and  stone  masonry. 

There  is  much  in  the  life  and  history  of  the 
Bohemian  people  that  is  especially  interesting 
to  a  race  or  a  people  like  the  Negro,  that  is 
itself  struggling  up  to  a  higher  and  freer  level 
of  life  and  civilization. 

Up  to  1848  the  masses  of  the  Bohemian 
people  were  held  in  a  condition  of  serfdom. 
Until  1867  they  were  not  allowed  to  emigrate 
from  the  country,  and  were  thus  held,  as  are 
the  Russian  peasants  to-day,  to  a  certain  degree, 
prisoners  in  their  own  country.  Most  of  the 
land  was  in  the  hands  of  the  nobility,  who  were 
the  descendants  of  foreigners  w^ho  came  into 
the  country  when  it  was  conquered,  a  century 
or  more  before.  Even  to-day  five  families 
own  8  per  cent,  of  all  the  land  in  the  kingdom, 
and  one  tenth  of  the  population  owns  36  per 
cent,  of  the  area  of  the  country.     The  Emperor 


66  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

and  the  Catholic  Church  are  also  large  land- 
owners. 

One  of  the  effects  of  this  new  education  and 
the  new  life  that  has  come  with  it  has  been  to 
make  the  land  held  in  larger  estates  less  pro- 
ductive than  that  which  is  divided  into  smaller 
holdings  and  cultivated  by  the  men  who  own  it. 

It  was  interesting  to  me  to  learn  that  the 
Bohemians  in  their  own  country  suffer  from 
some  of  the  same  disadvantages  as  the  Negro 
in  the  South.  For  example,  the  educational 
fund  is  divided  between  the  races  —  the  Ger- 
mans and  the  Czechs  —  just  as  the  money  for 
education  is  divided  in  the  South  between  the 
whites  and  the  blacks,  but,  as  is  true  in  the 
South,  it  is  not  divided  equally  between  the 
races. 

For  example,  in  the  city  of  Prague  there  is 
one  gymnasium  (school)  to  every  62,000  Czech 
inhabitants,  while  the  Germans  have  one  gymna- 
sium for  every  6,700  inhabitants.  Of  what  are 
called  the  real-schools,  in  which  the  education 
is  more  practical  than  that  of  the  gymnasia, 
there  is  one  for  every  62,000  Bohemian  inhabi- 
tants, while  the  Germans  have  one  for  every 
10,000  inhabitants.  For  a  number  of  years 
past,  although  the  Bohemians  represent  70  per 
cent,  of  the  population,  they  have  received  only 
a  little  more  than  one  half  of  the  money  appro- 


LIFE  AND  LABOUR  ON  THE  CONTINENT   67 

priated  for  secondary  education,  both  In  the 
gymnasia  and  the  real-schools.  The  salaries  of 
teachers  in  the  elementary  schools  range  from 
$155  to  ^400  per  year;  in  the  schools  in  which  the 
German  language  is  taught,  however,  teachers 
receive  an  added  bonus  for  their  services. 

To  overcome  their  disadvantages  in  this 
direction  the  Czechs  have  supplemented  the 
work  of  the  public  schools  by  industrial  schools, 
which  are  maintained  by  the  contributions  of 
the  people  in  the  same  way  that  the  Negroes 
in  many  parts  of  the  South  have  supplemented 
the  work  of  the  public  schools  in  order  to  in- 
crease the  terms  of  the  school  year  and  to  intro- 
duce industrial  training  of  various  sorts. 

More  than  this,  the  masses  of  the  people  in 
Bohemia  are  limited  and  restricted  in  all  their 
movements  in  ways  of  which  no  one  in  America 
who  has  not  passed  through  the  hands  of  the 
immigration  inspectors  at  Ellis  Island  has  an}^ 
comprehension.  For  example,  the  people  of 
Austria  have  had  for  a  number  of  years  freedom 
of  conscience,  and,  in  theory  at  least,  every  one 
is  allowed  to  worship  according  to  his  own 
inclination  and  convictions.  Nevertheless,  it 
seems  to  be  as  much  a  crime  in  Austria  to  say 
anything  that  could  be  construed  as  disrespect- 
ful to  the  Catholic  Church  as  it  would  be  to 
insult  the  name  of  the  Emperor.     I   heard   a 


68  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

story  of  a  woman  who  ran  a  small  store  in  which 
she  was  using  copies  of  a  Catholic  newspaper 
with  which  to  wrap  up  articles  which  she  had 
sold  to  her  customers.  She  was  warned  by  the 
police  that  if  she  continued  to  use  this  paper 
for  that  purpose  she  would  be  liable  to  arrest. 
Afterward  packages  were  found  in  her  store 
which  were  wrapped  in  this  paper;  she  was 
arrested  and  the  case  was  carried  to  the  highest 
court,  but  the  sentence  which  had  been  imposed 
upon  her  stood,  and  she  was  compelled  to  serve 
a  term  in  prison  as  punishment  for  this  offence. 
It  was  only  with  the  greatest  difficulty.  Doctor 
Clarke  informed  me,  that  he  succeeded  in  getting 
permission  from  the  Government  to  establish 
a  branch  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Asso- 
ciation in  Prague. 

I  myself  had  some  experience  of  these  re- 
strictions when  I  spoke  before  an  audience  com- 
posed largely  of  young  Bohemian  workmen  in 
the  rooms  of  this  same  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association.  In  order  that  I  might  be  per- 
mitted to  make  this  address  it  was  necessary  to 
announce  the  subject  to  the  officers  of  the  Gov- 
ernment three  days  before  I  arrived  in  the  city, 
and  at  the  meeting  I  had  the  unusual  experience 
of  having  my  words  taken  down  by  a  Government 
official  who  was  present  to  see  that  I  did  not  say 
anything  that  would  disturb  the  public  peace. 


LIFE  AND  LABOUR  ON  THE  CONTINENT  69 

Not  knowing  what  else  I  could  say  to  this 
audience  that  would  interest  them,  I  told 
briefly  the  story  of  my  own  life  and  of  the  work 
that  we  are  trying  to  do  for  our  students  at 
Tuskegee.  I  told  them  also  that  the  institution 
(Hampton  Institute)  in  which  I  had  gained  my 
education  had  been  established  by  the  same 
American  Board  of  Missions  which  was  respon- 
sible for  the  existence  of  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  in  Bohemia. 

In  order  that  my  hearers  might  understand 
what  I  said,  it  was  necessary  for  the  secretary 
of  the  association,  a  Bohemian  who  spoke  very 
good  English,  to  translate  my  words  sentence 
by  sentence.  In  spite  of  these  difficulties  I 
do  not  think  I  ever  spoke  to  an  audience  of 
labouring  people  who  were  more  intelligent  or 
more  appreciative.  It  was  a  great  pleasure  and 
satisfaction  to  me  to  be  able  to  speak  to  this 
audience.  I  felt,  as  I  think  they  did,  that  we 
had  something  in  common  which  others,  per- 
haps, could  not  entirely  understand,  because 
each  of  us  belonged  to  a  race  which,  however 
different  in  other  respects,  was  the  same  in  this: 
that  it  was  struggling  upward. 


CHAPTER  V 


POLITICS    AND    RACES 


IN  PRAGUE,  the  capital  of  Bohemia,  I  came 
in  contact  for  the  first  time  with  the  ad- 
vance guard,  if  I  may  use  the  expression, 
of  a  new  race,  the  Slavs.  I  say  a  new  race, 
because  although  the  Slavic  peoples  claim  an 
antiquity  as  great  as  that  of  any  other  race  in 
Europe,  the  masses  of  the  race  seem  just  now 
emerging  from  a  condition  of  life  more  primitive 
than  that  of  almost  any  other  people  in  Europe. 
Many  little  things,  not  only  what  I  saw  with 
my  own  eyes,  but  what  I  heard  from  others, 
gave  me  the  impression,  as  I  travelled  south- 
ward, that  I  was  entering  into  a  country  where 
the  masses  of  the  people  lived  a  simpler  and  more 
primitive  existence  than  any  I  had  seen  else- 
where in  Europe.  I  remember,  for  one  thing, 
that  I  was  one  day  startled  to  see,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  mining  regions  of  Bohemia,  a 
half-dozen  women  engaged  in  loading  a  coal 
barge  —  shovelling  the  coal  into  wheelbarrows 
and  wheeling  them  along  a  narrow  plank  from 
the  coal  wharf  to  the  ship  alongside. 

70 


POLITICS  AND  RACES  71 

I  was  impressed,  again,  by  the  fact  that 
several  of  the  peoples  of  the  Austrian  Em- 
pire —  the  Moravians  and  Ruthenians  are 
an  illustration  —  still  preserve  their  old  tribal 
names.  Certain  other  of  these  peoples  still 
keep  not  only  the  tribal  names,  but  many  of  the 
old  tribal  customs.  Among  most  of  the  Slavic 
peoples,  for  example,  custom  still  gives  to  the 
marriage  ceremony  the  character  of  barter 
and  sale.  In  fact,  I  found  that  in  one  of  the 
large  provincial  towns  in  eastern  Hungary  the 
old  "matrimonial  fairs"  are  still  kept  up.  On 
a  certain  day  in  each  year  hundreds  of  mar- 
riageable young  women  are  brought  down  to 
this  fair  by  their  parents,  where  they  may  be 
seen  seated  on  their  trunks  and  surrounded  by 
the  cattle  they  expect  to  have  for  a  dowry. 
Naturally  young  men  come  from  all  the  sur- 
rounding country  to  attend  this  fair,  and 
usually  a  lawyer  sits  out  under  a  tree  nearby 
prepared  to  draw  up  the  marriage  contract. 
In  some  cases  as  many  as  forty  marriages  are 
arranged  in  this  way  in  a  single  day. 

Divided  into  petty  kingdoms  or  provinces, 
each  speaking  a  separate  language,  living  for 
the  most  part  in  the  country  districts,  and  held 
in  some  sort  of  political  and  economic  sub- 
jection, sometimes  by  the  descendants  of  foreign  . 
conquerors,   and  sometimes,   as  in  the  case  of 


72  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

the  Poles,  by  the  nobility  of  their  own  race, 
the  masses  of  the  Slavic  peoples  in  southern 
Europe  have  lived  for  centuries  out  of  touch 
with  the  life  of  cities,  and  to  a  large  extent  out 
of  touch  with  the  world.  Compared,  there- 
fore, with  the  peoples  of  western  Europe,  who 
are  living  in  the  centres  of  modern  life  and  prog- 
ress, the  Slavic  peoples  are  just  now  on  the 
horizon. 

In  the  course  of  my  travels  through  Austria 
and  Hungary  I  think  I  met,  at  one  time  or  an- 
other, representatives  of  nearly  every  branch 
of  the  Slavic  race  in  the  empire.  In  Bohemia 
I  became  acquainted,  as  I  have  said,  with  the 
most  progressive  portion  of  the  race,  the  Czechs. 
In  Galicia  I  saw  something  of  the  life  of  the 
Polish  people,  both  in  the  towns  and  in  the 
country  districts.  Again,  in  Budapest  and 
Vienna  I  learned  something  of  the  condition 
of  the  labouring  and  peasant  classes,  among 
whom  the  Slavic  peoples  are  usually  in  the 
majority.  At  Fiume,  the  port  of  Hungary, 
from  which  forty  thousand  emigrants  sail  every 
year  for  the  United  States,  I  met  and  talked 
with  Dalmatians,  Croatians,  Slovenes,  Rutheni- 
ans,  and  Serbs  —  representatives,  in  fact,  of 
almost  every  race  in  Hungary.  In  the  plains  of 
central  Hungary,  and  again  in  eastern  Prussia, 
I  saw  gangs  of  wandering  labourers,  made  up  of 


POLITICS  AND  RACES  73 

men  and  women  who  come  to  this  part  of  the 
country  from  the  Slavic  countries  farther  south 
and  east  to  take  part  in  the  harvest  on  the 
great  estates. 

During  this  time  I  became  acquainted  to 
some  extent  also  with  representatives  of  al- 
most every  type  of  civilization,  high  and  low, 
among  the  peoples  of  southern  Europe,  from 
the  Dalmatian  herdsmen,  who  lead  a  rude  and 
semi-barbarous  existence  on  the  high,  barren 
mountains  along  the  coast  of  the  Adriatic,  to 
the  thrifty  and  energetic  artisans  of  Bohemia 
and  the  talented  Polish  nobility,  who  are  said  to 
be  among  the  most  intellectual  people  in  Europe. 

I  did  not,  among  these  classes  I  have  men- 
tioned, see  the  most  primitive  people  of  the 
Slavic  race,  nor  the  type  of  the  man  of  that 
race  farthest  down.  In  fact,  I  have  heard  that 
in  the  mountain  regions  of  southern  Galicia 
there  are  people  who  make  their  homes  in  holes 
in  the  ground  or  herd  together  in  little  huts 
built  of  mud.  I  did  not  see,  either,  as  I  should 
like  to  have  seen,  the  life  of  those  Slavic  people 
in  southwestern  Hungary  who  still  hold  their 
lands  in  common  and  live  together  in  patriarchal 
communities,  several  families  beneath  one  roof, 
under  the  rule  of  a  *' house  father"  and  a  ''house 
mother,"  who  are  elected  annually  to  govern 
the  community. 


74  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

What  little  I  did  see  of  the  life  of  the  dif- 
ferent branches  of  the  race  gave  me  the  im- 
pression, however,  of  a  people  of  great  possibil- 
ities, who,  coming  late  into  the  possession  of 
modern  ideas  and  modern  methods,  were  every- 
where advancing,  in  some  places  rapidly  and 
in  others  more  slowly,  but  always  making  prog- 
ress. 

One  thing  that  has  hindered  the  advancement 
of  the  Slavs  has  been  the  difference  in  the 
languages  spoken  by  the  different  branches  of 
the  race.  So  great  an  obstacle  is  this  difference 
of  language  that  some  years  ago,  when  a  con- 
gress of  all  the  Slavic  peoples  was  held  at 
Prague,  the  representatives  of  the  different 
branches  of  the  race,  having  no  common  tongue, 
were  compelled  to  speak  to  each  other  in  the 
one  language  that  they  all  professed  to  hate  — 
namely,  German. 

Another  thing  that  has  hindered  the  progress 
of  the  Slavs  has  been  the  inherited  jealousies 
and  the  memories  they  cherish  of  ancient  in- 
juries they  have  inflicted  on  one  another  in 
times  past.  In  general,  it  seems  to  be  true  of 
the  races  of  Austria-Hungary  that  each  race 
or  branch  of  the  race  hates  and  despises  every 
other,  and  this  hatred  is  the  more  bitter  the 
more  closely  they  are  associated.  For  example, 
there    is    a    long-standing    feud    between    the 


POLITICS  AND  RACES  75 

Polish  peasants  and  the  Polish  nobility.  This 
division  is  so  great  that  the  Polish  peasants 
have  frequently  sided  against  the  Polish  nobility 
in  the  contests  of  the  latter  with  the  central 
government  of  Austria.  However,  this  sen- 
timent of  caste  which  separates  the  two  classes 
of  the  Polish  people  is  nothing  compared  with 
the  contempt  with  which  every  Pole,  whether  he 
be  peasant  or  noble,  is  said  to  feel  for  every  Ruthen- 
ian,  a  people  w^ith  whom  the  Pole  is  very  closely 
related  by  blood,  and  with  whom  he  has  long 
been  in  close  political  association.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  Ruthenian  in  Galicia  looks 
upon  the  Pole  just  as  the  Czech  in  Bohemia 
looks  upon  his  German  neighbour:  as  his  bitter- 
est enemy.  The  two  peoples  refuse  to  inter- 
mingle socially;  they  rarely  intermarry;  in 
many  cases  they  maintain  separate  schools, 
and  are  represented  separately  in  the  Imperial 
Parliament,  each  race  electing  its  own  repre- 
sentatives. But  all  are  united  in  hating  and 
despising  the  Jew,  who,  although  he  claims  for 
himself  no  separate  part  of  the  empire,  and  has 
no  language  to  distinguish  himself  from  the 
other  races  about  him,  still  clings  as  tenaciously 
as  any  other  portion  of  the  population  to  his 
own   racial  traditions   and   customs. 

The    Slavic    peoples,    otherwise    divided    by 
language    and    tradition,    are    also    divided   by 


76  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

religion.  People  speaking  the  same  language, 
and  sharing  in  other  respects  the  same  tra- 
ditions, are  frequently  just  as  widely  separated 
by  differences  of  religion  as  they  could  be  by 
differences  of  race.  For  example,  among  the 
southern  Slavs  the  majority  of  the  Slovenes  and 
the  Croatians  are  Roman  Catholics,  others  are 
Protestants.  On  the  other  hand,  the  majority 
of  the  Serbs,  their  close  neighbours,  are  mem- 
bers of  the  Greek  Orthodox  Church,  while 
others  are  Mohammedans.  So  wide  is  the 
division  between  the  Roman  Catholic  and  the 
Orthodox  Slavs  that  in  some  cases  members  of 
the  Eastern  and  Western  branches  of  the  Church 
belonging  to  the  same  nationality  wear  a  dif- 
ferent costume  in  order  to  emphasize  the 
differences  of  religion  that  might  otherwise  be 
forgotten  or  overlooked. 

In  Galicia  there  are  not  only  the  Roman  and 
Orthodox  branches  of  the  Church,  but  there  are 
also  three  or  four  other  minor  branches.  One 
of  these,  the  Uniates,  which  is  a  compromise 
between  the  two  and  is  intended  to  be  a  sort  of 
link  between  the  Eastern  and  Western  churches, 
is  now,  it  is  said,  just  as  distinct  from  both  as 
any  of  the  other  branches  of  the  Church.  In 
this  region,  which  has  been  the  battleground 
of  all  the  religions  in  Europe,  religious  distinc- 
tions play  a  much  more  important  role  than  they 


POLITICS  AND  RACES  77 

do  elsewhere,  because  the  masses  of  the  people 
have  not  yet  forgotten  the  bitterness  and  the 
harshness  of  the  early  struggles  of  the  sects. 
The  result  is  that  religious  differences  seem 
to  have  intensified  rather  than  to  have  softened 
the  racial  animosities. 

In  spite  of  the  divisions  and  rivalries  which 
exist,  there  seems  to  be  growing  up,  under  the 
influence  of  the  struggle  against  the  other  and 
dominant  races  in  the  Empire,  and  as  a  result 
of  the  political  agitations  to  which  this  struggle 
has  given  rise,  a  sense  of  common  purpose  and 
interest  in  the  different  branches  of  the  Slavic 
race;  a  sort  of  racial  consciousness,  as  it  is 
sometimes  called,  which  seems  to  be  one  of  the 
conditions  without  which  a  race  that  is  down 
is  not  able  to  get  the  ambition  and  the  courage 
to  rise. 

It  is  the  presence  of  this  great  Slav  race  in 
western  Europe,  groping  its  way  forward  under 
the  conditions  and  difficulties  which  I  have 
described,  that  constitutes,  as  well  as  I  am 
able  to  define  it,  the  race  problem  of  southern 
Europe. 

In  many  respects  the  situation  of  the  Slavs 
in  the  Austro-Hungarian  Empire  and  in  southern 
Europe  generally  is  more  like  that  of  the  Negroes 
in  the  Southern  States  than  is  true  of  any  other 
class  or  race  in  Europe.     For  one  thing,   the 


78  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

vast  majority  of  that  race  are,  like  the  Negroes, 
an  agricultural  people.  For  centuries  they 
have  lived  and  worked  on  the  soil,  where  they 
have  been  the  servants  of  the  great  landowners, 
looked  down  upon  by  the  educated  and  higher 
classes  as  *'an  inferior  race."  Although  they 
were  not  distinguished  from  the  dominant 
classes,  as  the  Negro  was,  by  the  colour  of  their 
skin,  they  were  distinguished  by  the  language 
they  spoke,  and  this  difference  in  language 
seems  to  have  been,  as  far  as  mutual  under- 
standing and  sympathy  are  concerned,  a  greater 
bar  than  the  fact  of  colour  has  been  in  the  case 
of  the  white  man  and  the  black  man  in  the 
South. 

Up  to  a  comparatively  few  years  ago  an 
educated  Slav  did  not  ordinarily  speak,  at  least 
in  public,  the  language  of  the  masses  of  the 
people.  Doctor  Clarke,  the  head  of  the  Austrian 
Mission  of  the  American  Board  in  Prague,  told 
me  that  as  recently  as  thirty  years  ago  an 
educated  Czech  did  not  care  to  speak  his  own 
language  on  the  streets  of  Prague.  At  that 
time  the  German  language  was  still  the  language 
of  the  educated  classes,  and  all  the  learning  of 
Europe  was,  to  a  very  large  extent,  a  closed 
book  to  the  people  who  did  not  speak  and  read 
that  language. 

To-day  conditions  have  so  changed,  Doctor 


POLITICS  AND  RACES  79 

Clarke  tells  me,  that  the  people  in  certain  quar- 
ters of  Prague  scowl  at  any  one  who  speaks 
German  on  the  street. 

"When  we  go  to  visit  an  official  of  the  Govern- 
ment," said  Doctor  Clarke,  "we  usually  inquire, 
first  of  all,  which  language  this  particular  official 
prefers  to  speak,  German  or  Czech.  It  is  w4se 
to  do  this  because  most  of  the  officials,  par- 
ticularly if  they  represent  the  central  govern- 
ment of  Vienna,  speak  German;  but  a  Czech 
who  is  loyal  to  his  race  will  not  speak  the  hated 
German  unless  he  has  to  do  so." 

Doctor  Clarke  told  me,  as  illustrating  the 
fanaticism  of  the  Bohemian  people  in  this 
matter  of  language,  that  his  little  girls,  who  had 
been  educated  in  German  schools  and  preferred 
to  speak  that  language  among  themselves,  had 
more  than  once  been  hooted  at,  and  even  stoned, 
by  young  Bohemians  in  the  part  of  the  town 
where  he  lives,  because  they  spoke  a  language 
which  the  masses  of  the  people  had  been  brought 
up  to  hate. 

Another  way  in  which  the  situation  of  the 
Slavic  people  resembles,  to  a  certain  extent, 
that  of  the  masses  of  the  Negroes  in  the  South- 
ern States,  is  in  the  matter  of  their  political 
relations  to  the  dominant  races.  Both  in 
Austria  and  in  Hungary  all  the  races  are  sup- 
posed to  have  the  same  political  privileges,  and, 


So  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

in  the  case  of  Austria  at  least,  the  Government 
seems  to  have  made  a  real  effort  to  secure  equal 
rights  to  all.  Here,  again,  racial  and  tra- 
ditional prejudices,  as  well  as  the  wide  dif- 
ferences in  wealth  and  culture  of  the  different 
peoples,  have  kept  the  political  power  in  Aus- 
tria proper  in  the  hands  of  the  Germans,  and 
in  Hungary  in  the  hands  of  the  Magyars. 

What  makes  the  situation  more  difficult  for 
the  dominant  races  in  these  two  countries  is 
the  fact  that  the  so-called  inferior  peoples  are 
increasing  more  rapidly  than  the  other  races 
in  numbers,  and  the  Germans  and  Magyars 
are  every  year  becoming  a  smaller  minority 
in  the  midst  of  the  populations  which  they  are 
attempting  to  control.  The  result  has  been 
that  the  empire  seems  to  the  one  who  looks  on 
from  the  outside  a  seething  mass  of  discontent, 
with  nothing  but  the  fear  of  being  swallowed 
up  by  some  of  their  more  powerful  neighbours 
to  hold  the  nationalities  together. 

There  is  one  respect  in  which  the  situation 
of  the  Negro  in  America  is  entirely  different 
from  the  various  nationalities  of  Austria  and 
Hungary.  The  Negro  is  not  compelled  to  get 
his  education  through  the  medium  of  a  language 
that  is  foreign  to  the  other  people  by  whom  he 
is  surrounded.  The  black  man  in  the  South 
speaks    the    same    tongue    and    professes    the 


POLITICS  AND  RACES  8i 

same  religion  as  the  white  people.  He  is  not 
seeking  to  set  up  any  separate  nationality  for 
himself  nor  to  create  any  interest  for  himself 
which  is  separate  from  or  antagonistic  to  the 
interest  of  the  other  people  of  the  United  States. 
The  Negro  is  not  seeking  to  dominate  politically, 
at  the  expense  of  the  white  population,  any 
part  of  the  country  which  he  Inhabits.  Al- 
though he  has  suffered  wrongs  and  Injustices,  he 
has  not  become  embittered  or  fanatical.  Com- 
petition with  the  white  race  about  him  has 
given  the  Negro  an  ambition  to  succeed  and 
made  him  feel  pride  in  the  successes  he  has  al- 
ready achieved;  but  he  is  just  as  proud  to  be  an 
American  citizen  as  he  is  to  be  a  Negro.  He 
cherishes  no  ambitions  that  are  opposed  to  the 
interests  of  the  white  people,  but  is  anxious  to 
prove  himself  a  help  rather  than  a  hindrance 
to  the  success  and  prosperity  of  the  other  race. 

I  doubt  whether  there  are  many  people  in 
our  Southern  States  who  have  considered  how 
much  more  difficult  the  situation  In  the  South- 
ern States  would  be  if  the  masses  of  the  black 
people  spoke  a  language  different  from  the 
white  people  around  them,  and  particularly 
if,  at  the  same  time,  they  cherished  political 
and  social  ambitions  that  were  antagonistic 
to  the  interests  of  the  white  man. 

On   the   other   hand,    I    doubt   whether   the 


82  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

Negro  people  realize  the  advantage  which  they 
have  in  speaking  one  of  the  great  world  lan- 
guages, the  language,  in  fact,  that  is  more 
largely  used  than  any  other  by  the  people  who 
are  most  advanced  in  science,  in  the  arts,  and 
in  all  that  makes  the  world  better.  English  is 
not  only  a  great  world  language,  it  is  the  lan- 
guage of  a  people  and  a  race  among  whom  the 
highest  are  neither  afraid  nor  ashamed  to 
reach  down  and  lift  up  the  lowest,  and  help 
them  in  their  efforts  to  reach  a  higher  and  a 
better  life. 

In  the  south  of  Europe  conditions  are  quite 
different.  The  languages  spoken  there,  so  far 
from  helping  to  bring  people  together,  are  the 
very  means  by  which  the  peoples  are  kept  apart. 
Furthermore,  the  masses  of  the  people  of  Aus- 
tria speak  languages  which,  until  a  hundred 
years  ago,  had  almost  no  written  literature.  Up 
to  the  beginning  of  the  last  century  the  educated 
people  of  Hungary  spoke  and  wrote  in  Latin, 
and  down  to  the  middle  of  the  century  Latin 
was  still  the  language  of  the  Court.  Until 
1848  there  were  almost  no  schools  in  the  Czech 
language  in  Bohemia.  Up  to  that  time  there 
were  almost  no  newspapers,  magazines,  or  books 
printed  in  the  language  spoken  by  the  masses 
of  the  people. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  written  or  literary 


POLITICS  AND  RACES  83 

languages  of  the  Slavic  people  have  been,  with  one 
or  two  exceptions,  almost  created  during  the  past 
hundred  years.  In  fact,  some  of  the  Slavs,  al- 
though they  have  a  rich  oral  literature,  still  have, 
I  have  been  told,  no  written  language  of  their  own. 

A  great  change  has  been  brought  about  in 
this  respect  in  recent  years.  At  the  present 
time,  of  the  5,000  periodicals  printed  in  Austria- 
Hungary,  about  2,000  are  printed  in  German, 
938  in  Magyar,  582  in  Czech,  and  the  remain- 
ing 1,480  are  in  some  five  or  six  other  languages. 
The  Magyar  language  is  now  taught  in  all  the 
schools  of  Hungary,  w^hether  some  other  lan- 
guage is  taught  at  the  same  time  or  not.  Out- 
side of  Hungary,  in  Austria  proper,  there  are 
some  8,000  exclusively  German  schools,  5,578 
Czech,  and  6,632  schools  in  which  are  taught 
other  Slav  dialects,  not  to  speak  of  the  645 
schools  in  which  Italian  is  taught,  the  162 
schools  in  which  Roumanian  is  taught,  and  the 
5  in  which  Magyar  is  taught. 

To  an  outsider  it  seems  as  if  the  purpose  of 
these  schools  must  be  to  perpetuate  the  existing 
confusion  and  racial  animosities  in  the  empire. 
On  the  other  side,  it  must  be  remembered  that 
it  has  been  an  enormous  advantage  to  the 
masses  of  the  people  to  be  able  to  read  the  lan- 
guage which  they  habitually  speak.  In  fact, 
the    multiplication    of    these    different    written 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

languages,  and  of  schools  in  which  they  are 
taught,  seems  to  have  been  the  only  way  of 
opening  to  the  masses  of  the  people  the  learning 
which  had  been  before  that  time  locked  up  in 
languages  which  they  sometimes  learned  to 
read  but  rarely  spoke. 

As  I  have  considered  the  complications  and 
difficulties,  both  political  and  economic,  which 
not  merely  Austria  but  Europe  has  to  face  as  a 
consequence  of  the  different  languages  spoken 
by  the  different  races,  I  have  asked  myself 
what  would  probably  happen  in  our  Southern 
States  if,  as  some  people  have  suggested,  large 
numbers  of  these  foreign  peoples  were  induced 
to  settle  there.  I  greatly  fear  that  if  these 
people  should  come  in  large  numbers  and  settle 
in  colonies  outside  of  the  cities,  where  they 
would  have  comparatively  few  educational 
advantages  and  where  they  would  be  better 
able  and  more  disposed  to  preserve  their  native 
customs  and  languages,  we  might  have  a  racial 
problem  in  the  South  more  difficult  and  more 
dangerous  than  that  which  is  caused  by  the 
presence  of  the  Negro.  Whatever  else  one  may 
say  of  the  Negro,  he  is,  in  everything  except 
his  colour,  more  like  the  Southern  white 
man,  more  willing  and  able  to  absorb  the  ideas 
and  the  culture  of  the  white  man  and  adapt  him- 
self   to    existing    conditions,    than    is    true  of 


POLITICS  AND  RACES  85 

any  race  which  is  now  coming  into  this  coun- 
try. 

Perhaps  my  attempt  to  compare  racial  con- 
ditions in  southern  Europe  with  racial  con- 
ditions in  the  southern  United  States  will  seem 
to  some  persons  a  trifle  strange  and  out  of  place 
because  in  the  one  case  the  races  concerned  are 
both  white,  while  in  the  other  case  one  is  white 
and  one  is  black.  Nevertheless,  I  am  convinced 
that  a  careful  study  of  conditions  as  they  exist  in 
southern  Europe  will  throw  a  great  deal  of  light 
upon  the  situation  of  the  races  in  our  Southern 
States.  More  than  that,  strange  and  irrational  as 
racial  conflicts  often  seem,  whether  in  Europe  or 
in  America,  I  suspect  that  at  bottom  they  are 
merely  the  efforts  of  groups  of  people  to  readjust 
their  relations  under  changing  conditions.  In 
short,  they  grow  out  of  the  efforts  of  the  people 
who  are  at  the  bottom  to  lift  themselves  to  a 
higher  stage  of  existence. 

If  that  be  so,  it  seems  to  me  there  need  be 
no  fear,  under  a  free  government,  where  every 
man  is  given  opportunity  to  get  an  education, 
where  every  man  is  encouraged  to  develop  in 
himself  and  bring  to  the  service  of  the  com- 
munity the  best  that  is  in  him,  that  racial 
difficulties  should  not  finally  be  adjusted,  and 
white  man  and  black  man  live,  each  helping 
rather  than  hindering  the  other. 


CHAPTER  V 

STRIKES    AND    FARM    LABOUR    IN    ITALY   AND 
HUNGARY 

THERE  is  one  English  word  which  seems 
to  be  more  widely  known  and  used  in 
Europe  than  almost  any  other.  It  is 
the  word  "strike."  Labour  strikes,  I  have 
understood,  had  their  origin  with  the  factory 
system  in  England.  But  the  people  on  the 
Continent  have  improved  on  the  original  Eng- 
lish device,  and  have  found  ways  of  using  it  of 
which  we  in  America,  I  suspect,  have  rarely 
if  ever  heard. 

It  seems  to  me  that  during  my  short  journey 
in  Europe  I  heard  of  more  kinds  of  strikes,  and 
learned  more  about  the  different  ways  in  which 
this  form  of  warfare  can  be  used,  than  I  ever 
learned  before  in  all  my  life.  In  Europe  one 
hears,  for  example,  of  "political"  strikes,  of 
"general"  strikes,  and  of  "agricultural"  strikes 
—  harvest  strikes  —  which  are  a  peculiar  and 
interesting  variety  of  the  ordinary  labour  strikes. 
There  are  rent  strikes,  "hunger  riots,"  strikes 
of  students,  even  of  legislatures,  and  when  I  was 

86 


STRIKES  AND  FARM  LABOUR  87 

in  Budapest  some  one  called  my  attention  to  an 
account  in  one  of  the  papers  of  what  was  called 
a  "house  strike." 

This  was  a  case  in  w^hich  the  tenants  of  one 
of  the  large  tenement  buildings  or  apartment 
houses  of  the  city  had  gone  on  strike  to  compel 
the  landlord  to  reduce  the  rent.  They  had  hung 
the  landlord  in  effigy  in  the  big  central  court 
around  which  the  building  is  erected;  decorated 
the  walls  and  balconies  with  scurrilous  placards, 
and  then  created  such  a  disturbance  by  their 
jeers  and  outcries,  supplemented  with  fish  horns, 
that  the  whole  neighbourhood  was  roused.  The 
house  strikers  took  this  way  to  advertise  their 
grievances,  gain  public  sympathy,  and  secure 
reduction  of  the  rent. 

I  had  an  opportunity,  during  my  stay  in 
Europe,  to  get  some  first-hand,  information  in 
regard  to  these  continental  strikes.  I  was  in 
Berlin  just  before  and  after  the  three  days'  battle 
between  the  striking  coalyard  men  of  Moabit 
and  the  police,  in  the  course  of  which  several  of 
the  officers  and  hundreds  of  the  people  were 
wounded.  For  several  days  one  section  of 
Berlin  was  practically  in  a  state  of  siege.  The 
police  charged  the  crowd  with  their  horses, 
trampled  the  people  under  foot,  and  cut  them 
down  with  their  swords.  The  soldiers  hunted 
the  strikers  into  the  neighbouring  houses,  where 


88  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

they  attempted  to  barricade  themselves  and 
replied  to  the  attacks  of  the  police  by  hurling 
missiles  from  the  windows  of  the  houses  into 
the  streets  below.  At  night  the  streets  were 
in  darkness,  because  the  strikers  had  cut  the 
electric  wires,  thus  shutting  off  the  lights, 
so  that  the  police  were  compelled  to  carry 
torches  in  order  to  distinguish  friends  from 
foes. 

At  another  time,  while  I  w^as  in  Flume,  Hun- 
gary, I  had  an  opportunity  to  see  for  myself 
the  manner  and  spirit  in  which  these  strikes  are 
conducted,  or,  rather,  the  way  in  which  they  are 
put  down  by  the  police. 

I  had  gone  out  one  day  to  visit  the  emigrant 
station,  which  is  situated  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
city,  and  noticed,  on  my  way  thither,  a  number 
of  policemen  on  the  car.  Then,  apparently  at 
a  signal  from  a  man  in  charge,  they  seemed  to 
melt  away.  Half  an  hour  later,  while  I  was  at 
the  emigrant  station,  I  was  startled  by  loud  cries 
outside  the  building.  Every  one  rushed  to  the 
windows.  The  street  was  crowded  with  men, 
women,  and  children,  all  running  helter-skelter 
in  the  direction  of  the  city.  Some  of  the  hands 
in  a  nearby  factory  had  gone  on  strike.  I 
could  not  at  first  understand  why  every  one 
seemed  in  such  a  state  of  terror.  Very  soon  I 
learned,  however,  that  they  were  running  from 


STRIKES  AND  FARM  LABOUR  89 

the  police,  and  a  moment  later  the  police  them- 
selves moved  into  view. 

They  were  formed  in  a  broad  double  line 
across  the  avenue,  and,  marching  rapidly,  simply 
swept  everything  before  them.  At  their  head, 
bearing  a  heavy  cane,  was  a  man  in  plain  clothes. 
I  do  not  know  whether  he  was  an  officer  or  the 
proprietor  of  the  factory,  but  I  was  struck  with 
the  haughty  and  contemptuous  air  with  which 
he  surveyed  the  rabble  as  it  melted  away  from  in 
front  of  him.  In  a  few  minutes  the  street  was 
empty  and,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  the  strike  was  over. 

It  was  a  small  affair  in  any  case.  There  was 
no  bloodshed  and  almost  no  resistance  on  the 
part  of  the  strikers,  so  far  as  I  could  see.  It  was 
sufficient,  however,  to  give  me  a  very  vivid 
notion  of  the  ruthless  way  in  which  the  govern- 
ments of  these  stern  military  powers  deal  with 
rebellious  labourers.  European  governments 
seem  to  have  the  habit  of  interfering,  in  a  way 
of  which  we  have  no  conception  in  this  country, 
in  all  the  small  intimate  affairs  of  life.  So  it  is 
not  to  be  expected  that  they  would  be  able,  like 
the  police  in  this  country,  to  act  as  a  neutral 
party  or  referee,  so  to  speak,  in  the  struggles 
of  labour  and  capital.  That  is  the  reason,  I  sus- 
pect, why  in  Europe  strikes  almost  always  turn 
out  to  be  a  battle  with  the  police  or  an  insurrec- 
tion against  the  Government. 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

Almost  anything  may  be  made  the  occasion 
of  a  strike  in  Europe,  it  seems.  Sometimes  in 
Austria  and  Hungary,  as  I  learned,  members  of 
the  local  diets  or  provincial  legislatures  go  on  a 
strike  and  refuse  to  make  any  laws  until  certain 
demands  have  been  complied  with  by  the  central 
government  at  Vienna.  Sometimes  the  students 
in  one  or  more  of  the  national  universities  go  on 
a  strike  because  a  favourite  professor  has  been 
removed  by  the  Government,  or  because  they 
are  opposed  to  some  particular  measure  of  the 
Government.  Not  infrequently,  in  France  or 
Italy,  labour  disturbances  are  fomented  for 
political  or  party  purposes,  particularly  among 
the  employees  of  the  state  railways. 

Strikes  are  a  favourite  weapon  of  the  Socialists 
when  they  are  seeking  to  force  some  political 
measure  through  parliament.  Until  a  few  years 
ago  it  seemed  that  the  "  general  strike, "  In  which 
all  the  labourers  of  a  city  or  several  cities,  by 
suddenly  laying  down  their  tools  and  refusing 
to  return  to  their  w^ork,  sought  to  force  some 
concession  by  the  Government,  was  the  means 
by  which  the  Socialists  proposed  to  overturn 
all  the  existing  governments  In  Europe.  Since 
the  failure  of  the  revolution  in  Russia  and  of 
similar  movements  on  a  smaller  scale  in  Italy 
and  elsewhere,  this  form  of  strike  seems  to  have 
fallen  into  disrepute. 


STRIKES  AND  FARM  LABOUR  91 


The  most  novel  and  interesting  form  of  labour 
insurrection  which  I  found  while  I  was  in  Europe 
was  the  "strike  of  the  agricultural  labourers." 
In  both  Hungary  and  Italy  the  agricultural 
labourers  have  for  some  years  past  been  organ- 
ized into  more  or  less  secret  societies,  and  the 
outbreaks  which  have  been  fomented  by  these 
secret  societies  have  been,  I  understand,  the 
most  bloody  and  the  most  far-reaching  in  in- 
fluence of  any  labour  strikes  in  Europe. 

The  possibility  that  farm  hands  might  be 
organized  into  labour  unions,  and  make  use  of 
this  form  of  organization  in  order  to  compel 
landowners  to  raise  wages,  had  never  occurred 
to  me,  and  I  took  some  pains  to  learn  the  con- 
ditions in  Hungary  and  Italy  under  which  these 
organizations  have  grown  up. 

I  found  that  while  the  situation  of  the  farm 
hands  in  Hungary  differs  from  that  of  the  farm 
hands  in  Italy  in  many  ways,  there  are  two  im- 
portant respects  in  which  the  situation  of  each 
is  the  same:  First,  a  large  part  of  the  land  of 
both  countries  is  held  in  large  estates;  second, 
farm  labourers,  as  a  rule,  particularly  in  Hun- 
gary, do  not  live,  as  is  the  case  in  America,  on 
the  land.  On  the  contrary,  they  dwell  apart  in 
villages,  so  that  they  are  hardly  any  morei  at- 
tached to  the  soil  they  cultivate  than  the  factory 
hand  is  attached  to  the  factory  in  which  he  is 


92  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

employed.  In  Hungary,  for  example,  it  is  the 
custom  for  a  group  of  labourers  to  enter,  during 
the  spring  and  summer,  into  a  contract  with  a 
landowner  to  harvest  his  crop  in  the  fall.  A 
contractor,  who  either  represents  or  employs 
the  farm  hands,  will  look  over  the  field  and 
bargain  with  the  owner  to  do  the  work  for  a 
certain  per  cent,  of  the  crop.  At  the  harvest 
time  the  contractor  will  arrive  with  his  labourers 
just  as  he  would  come  with  a  gang  of  men  to 
build  a  house  or  dig  a  ditch.  While  the  work 
is  going  on  the  labourers,  men  and  women  to- 
gether, practically  camp  in  the  fields,  sleeping 
sometimes  in  the  open  or  in  such  scant  shelter 
as  they  are  able  to  find. 

It  happened  that  I  was  in  Hungary  at  the 
harvest  time,  and  in  the  course  of  my  journey 
through  the  country  I  have  several  times  seen 
these  gangs  of  men  and  women  going  to  their 
work  at  daybreak.  In  this  part  of  the  country 
the  strangest  costumes  are  worn  by  the  peasant 
people,  and  the  women  especially,  with  their 
bright  kerchiefs  over  their  heads,  their  short 
skirts  and  high  boots,  when  they  were  not  bare- 
foot, were  quite  as  picturesque  as  anything  I  had 
read  had  led  me  to  expect.  The  labourers  go 
to.  work  at  early  dawn,  because  during  the 
harvest  season  the  field  hands  work  sometimes 
as  much  as  fourteen  to  sixteen  hours  a  day,  and 


STRIKES  AND  FARM  LABOUR  93 

then  throw  themselves  down  to  rest  for  the  night 
on  a  truss  of  straw  or  under  a  single  blanket. 
After  the  harvest  is  over  they  return  again  to 
their  villages. 

Working  in  this  way  in  troups  of  wandering 
labourers,  there  w^as  no  room  for  any  permanent 
human  relationships  between  themselves  and 
their  employers;  such  relationships,  for  example, 
as  exist,  in  spite  of  the  differences  of  race  and 
colour,  between  every  white  planter  in  the  South 
and  his  Negro  tenants.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  labourers,  working  and  living  together  in  the 
way  I  have  described,  come  to  have  a  strong 
sense  of  their  common  interest,  all  the  stronger, 
perhaps,  because  they  are  looked  down  upon 
by  the  rest  of  the  population,  and  particularly 
by  the  small  landowners  with  whom  they  were 
associated  up  to  the  time  of  their  emancipation, 
In  1848. 

About  1890  a  series  of  bad  harvests  —  coming 
on  the  heels  of  other  changes  which,  for  a  number 
of  years,  had  made  their  lives  steadily  harder  — 
helped  to  increase  the  discontent  of  the  farm 
hands.  Thus  it  was  that  when,  about  this  time, 
the  Socialists  turned  their  attention  to  the 
agricultural  population  of  Hungary,  they  found 
the  people  prepared  to  listen  to  their  doctrines. 

What  made  Socialism  the  more  popular  among 
the  lowest  farming  classes  was  the  fact  that  it 


94  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

not  only  promised  to  teach  the  farm  labourers 
how  they  might  increase  their  wages,  but  de- 
clared that  the  state  was  going  to  take  the  land 
out  of  the  hands  of  the  large  landowners  and 
divide  it  among  the  people  who  cultivated  it. 

What  made  the  situation  the  more  difficult 
was  the  fact  that  the  agricultural  labourers,  as 
soon  as  they  were  thoroughly  organized,  had 
the  landowners,  during  the  harvest  time,  at  a 
peculiar  disadvantage,  because  when  work  in 
the  fields  stopped,  the  standing  grain  ripened 
and  spoiled  and  the  landowner  was  ruined. 

In  the  emergency  created  by  these  strikes  the 
Government  came  to  the  rescue  of  the  landowner 
by  establishing  recruiting  stations  for  farm  la- 
bourers in  different  parts  of  the  country.  Col- 
lecting labourers  in  those  parts  of  the  country 
where  labour  w^as  abundant,  they  shipped  it  to 
other  parts  of  the  country  where,  because  of 
strikes,  labourers  were  scarce  and  crops  were  in 
danger.  Thus,  the  Government  had  at  one 
time  a  reserve  force  of  not  less  than  10,000  strike- 
breakers with  which  it  was  at  any  moment  able 
to  come  to  the  rescue  of  a  landowner  who  was 
threatened. 

In  many  cases  the  Government  undertook  to 
regulate  wages  between  landowners  and  their 
hands.  In  some  cases  they  even  sent  troops 
into  the  fields,  and  in  the  course  of  the  struggle 


STRIKES  AND  FARM  LABOUR  95 

there  were  frequent  bloody  collisions  between 
the  labourers  and  the  troops. 

One  effect  of  these  disturbances  was  to  greatly 
increase  the  amount  of  immigration  to  America. 
In  1904,  when  the  struggle  was  at  its  height,  no 
less  than  100,000  persons,  mostly  from  the 
country  districts,  emigrated  from  Hungary. 
Thousands  of  others  left  the  country  and  moved 
into  the  cities. 

Hungary  is  about  half  the  size  of  Texas,  and 
it  has  nearly  five  times  its  population.  Those 
who  remember  the  ''Negro  exodus"  of  thirty 
years  ago,  and  the  apprehension  that  was  created 
when  some  40,000  Negroes  left  the  plantations  in 
Mississippi  and  Louisiana,  will  be  able  to  under- 
stand the  effect  if  for  a  number  of  years  the 
South  should  lose  annually  by  emigration  to  the 
cities  or  to  other  parts  of  the  country  100,000 
of  its  labourers  in  the  cotton  fields. 

The  exodus  of  the  farm  labourer  from  Hungary 
threatened,  in  spite  of  the  rapid  increase  of  the 
population,  to  permanently  check  the  rising 
prosperity  of  the  country.  It  was  soon  found 
that  the  great  landowners  could  not  rely  upon 
repressive  measures  alone  to  solve  their  labour 
problems.  Something  must  be  done  to  redress 
the  grievances  and  to  improve  the  condition 
of  the  agricultural  population.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  a  very  great  deal  was  done  by  the  state  for 


96  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

agriculture,  and  something  was  done  for  the  ag- 
ricultural labourers.  For  example,  relief  funds 
were  organized  in  sixty-four  counties  and  bor- 
oughs to  aid  temporarily  disabled  workmen. 
Public  prizes  and  diplomas  were  offered  to  la- 
bourers who  were  faithful  to  their  masters. 

Something  was  done  to  brighten  the  monot- 
ony of  the  agricultural  labourer's  life  and  to 
strengthen  the  ties  between  the  labourers  and 
their  employers.  At  the  suggestion  of  the 
Minister  of  Agriculture,  an  attempt  was  made 
to  revive  the  harvest  feasts,  which  brought  the 
farmer  and  his  labourers  together.  Working- 
men's  clubs,  libraries,  friendly  and  cooperative 
societies  were  encouraged  by  the  Government. 
A  popular  weekly  paper,  printed  in  seven  dif- 
ferent languages,  was  started  for  the  benefit  of 
agricultural  labourers  and  as  a  means  of  agri- 
cultural education.  A  bill  for  insurance  against 
accidents  and  old  age  for  the  benefit  of  agricul- 
tural labourers  provided  that  if  a  labourer  loses 
more  than  a  week's  time  he  shall  receive,  in 
addition  to  the  expenses  of  doctor  and  medicine, 
a  sum  amounting  to  about  25  cents  a  day  for 
sixty  days.  In  case  of  death  of  an  agricultural 
labourer,  his  family  receives  a  sum  amounting 
to  something  between  ^40  and  ^50. 

In  Italy,  the  Socialistic  movement  among  the 
agricultural  classes  took  a  somewhat  different 


STRIKES  AND  FARM  LABOUR  97 

course.  For  one  thing,  it  was  not  confined 
merely  to  the  poorest  class  —  namely,  those 
labourers  who  live  in  the  villages  and  go  out 
at  certain  seasons  to  assist  in  the  work  on 
the  farms  —  but  extended  to  the  small  pro- 
prietors also,  and  those  who  rented  land.  In 
many  cases  the  large  estates  in  Italy  are  not 
managed  as  in  Hungary,  by  the  proprietor,  but 
by  middlemen  and  overseers,  who  pay  a  certain 
amount  of  rent  to  the  proprietor  and  then  sublet 
to  tenants.  Sometimes,  particularly  in  southern 
Italy,  lands  are  sublet  a  second  and  third  time. 

In  many  cases  the  terms  upon  which  the  land 
was  held  and  worked  by  the  small  farmer  were 
terribly  oppressive,  even  in  northern  Italy, 
where  conditions  are  incomparably  better  than 
in  the  south. 

Although  the  peasants  in  northern  Italy 
were  nominally  given  their  freedom  in  1793, 
their  condition,  until  a  few  years  ago,  has 
been  described  by  one  who  was  himself  a 
large  land  proprietor  as  ''little  better  than  if 
they  were  slaves."  In  addition  to  the  high 
rents,  the  tenant  farmer  was  compelled  to  furnish 
the  overseer  with  a  certain  number  of  chickens 
and  eggs,  and  a  certain  amount  of  peaches,  nuts, 
figs,  hemp  and  flax,  in  proportion  to  the  amount 
of  land  he  rented. 

The  overseer  claimed,  also,  just  as  the  over- 


98  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

lord  did  in  the  days  of  feudalism,  the  rights  to 
the  labour  of  the  peasant  and  his  ox-cart  for  a 
certain  part  of  every  year.  His  children  were 
expected  to  work  as  servants  in  his  household  at 
a  nominal  price.  The  overseer  sold  the  crop  of 
the  tenant  farmer,  and,  after  deducting  all  that 
was  coming  to  him  for  rent  and  for  other  charges, 
returned  the  remainder  to  the  tenant  farmer  as 
his  share  of  the  year's  work. 

In  one  case  where,  as  a  result  of  the  revolt 
of  his  tenants  the  middleman  was  driven  out, 
the  tenant  farmer,  under  the  direction  of  the 
Socialist  leaders,  undertook  to  rent  the  land 
directly  from  the  landowners,  it  was  found  that 
the  middleman  had  been  appropriating  not  less 
than  48  per  cent,  of  the  profits,  which,  under 
the  new  arrangement,  went  directly  into  the 
hands  of  the  man  who  tilled  the  soil. 

For  a  number  of  years  there  had  existed  among 
the  small  farmers  numerous  societies  for  mutual 
aid  of  various  kinds.  After  the  Socialists  began 
to  turn  their  attention  to  the  agricultural  popu- 
lation they  succeeded  in  gaining  leadership  in 
these  societies  and  used  them  as  a  means  of 
encouraging  agricultural  strikes.  It  was  from 
these  same  societies  also  that  they  recruited  the 
members  of  those  organizations  of  farm  labourers 
and  tenants  which  have  attempted  to  form  large 
estates  on  a  cooperative  basis.     By  this  means 


STRIKES  AND  FARM  LABOUR  99 

the  small  farmer  has  been  able  to  do  away  with 
the  middleman  and  still  retain  the  advantages 
which  result,  particularly  in  harvesting  and 
marketing  the  crops,  from  conducting  the 
operations  on  a  large  scale. 

In  recent  years  cooperative  organizations  of 
all  kinds  have  multiplied  among  the  small 
farmers  of  northern  Italy.  There  are  societies 
for  purchasing  supplies  as  well  as  for  disposing 
of  the  products  of  the  small  farmers;  the  most 
important  of  these  societies  have  been,  perhaps, 
the  cooperative  credit  organizations,  by  means 
of  which  small  landowners  have  been  able  to 
escape  the  burden  of  the  heavy  interest  charges 
they  were  formerly  compelled  to  pay. 

I  was  Interested  to  learn  that  both  the  Govern- 
ment and  the  Socialists  were  at  different  times 
opposed  to  these  cooperative  societies,  although 
for  different  reasons.  The  Socialists  were  op- 
posed to  cooperation  because  by  removing  the 
causes  of  discontent  it  sapped  the  revolutionary 
spirit  of  the  farming  classes.  The  Government, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  opposed  to  the  coopera- 
tive societies  because  their  leaders  were  so 
frequently  revolutionists  who  were  using  the 
society  to  stimulate  discontent  and  organize  the 
movement  to  overthrow  the  Government. 

The  great  general  strike  of  September,  1904, 
which  resulted  in  practically  putting  an  end,  for 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

five  days,  to  all  kinds  of  business  industries  in 
the  city  of  Milan,  was  provoked  by  the  state 
police  firing  upon  some  peasants  who  were  hold- 
ing a  meeting  to  pay  their  shares  and  take  their 
lots  in  an  agricultural  cooperative  society. 

I  have  attempted  to  describe  at  some  length 
the  character  of  the  Socialistic  movement  as 
I  found  it  in  Hungary  and  Italy,  because  it 
represents  on  the  whole  the  movement  of  the 
masses  at  the  bottom  of  life  in  Europe.  Through 
this  party,  for  the  first  time,  millions  of  human 
beings  who  have  had  no  voice  in  and  no  definite 
ideas  in  respect  to  the  Government  under  which 
they  lived  are  learning  to  think  and  to  give  ex- 
pression to  their  wants. 

Few  people,  I  venture  to  say,  have  any  definite 
notion  to  what  extent  the  most  remote  parts  of 
Europe,  from  which  the  majority  of  our  immi- 
grants now  come,  have  been  penetrated  by  the 
ideas  and  the  sentiments  of  the  Socialistic  party. 
There  are,  for  example,  some  five  or  six  different 
branches  of  the  party  in  Bohemia.  Socialism, 
I  learn,  has  made  its  way  even  into  such  coun- 
tries as  Roumania,  Servia,  Bulgaria,  and  Dal- 
matia,  where  perhaps  three  fourths  of  the  pop- 
ulation are  engaged  in  agriculture. 

There  are,  however,  as  I  discovered,  various 
kinds  and  types  of  Socialism.  I  think  I  saw 
during  my  ^journey  across  Europe  as  many  dif- 


STRIKES  AND  FARM  LABOUR 

ferent  kinds  of  Socialists  as  I  did  kinds  of  Jews, 
which  is  saying  a  good  deal.  In  Denmark  and 
Italy,  for  example,  I  met  men  of  the  very  highest 
type  who  were  members  of  the  Socialist  party. 
In  Copenhagen  I  was  entertained  by  the  editors 
of  the  Socialistic  paper.  The  Politiken,  which  is 
perhaps  the  most  ably  edited  and  influential 
paper  in  Denmark.  In  Italy  many  of  the  most 
patriotic  as  well  as  the  most  brilliant  men  in 
the  country,  writers,  students,  and  teachers,  are 
members  of  the  Socialist  party. 

In  Poland,  on  the  other  hand,  I  met  other 
Socialists  who  had  taken  an  active  part  in  the 
revolution  in  Russia  and  who,  for  aught  I  know, 
were  members  of  that  group  of  desperate  men 
who  are  said  even  now  to  be  plotting  from  Cra- 
cow, Austria,  a  new  revolutionary  movement 
among  the  agricultural  classes  in  Russia. 

In  short,  I  found  that  where  the  masses  of  the 
people  are  oppressed,  where  the  people  at  the 
bottom  are  being  crushed  by  those  who  are  above 
them,  there  Socialism  means  revolution.  On  the 
other  hand,  where  governments  have  shown  a 
liberal  spirit,  and  especially  where  the  Socialists 
have  had  an  opportunity  to  participate  in  the 
Government,  or  have  been  able,  by  means  of  the 
cooperative  societies  I  have  described,  to  do  con- 
structive work  for  the  benefit  of  the  masses, 
they  have  ceased  to  be  revolutionists,  have  no 


I02  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

longer  sought  to  overturn  the  Government,  but 
have  patriotically  striven  to  strengthen  the 
existing  order  by  freeing  it  from  those  defects 
that  were  dangerous  to  its  existence. 

In  saying  this,  I  do  not  mean  to  imply  that 
I  in  any  way  favour  the  Socialistic  programme 
of  reform.  I  live  in  the  Southern  States,  a  part 
of  the  country  which,  more  than  any  other  part 
of  the  civilized  world,  still  believes  that  the  best 
government  is  the  government  that  governs 
least;  the  government  that  you  can  wear  like  an 
old  coat,  without  feeling  it.  More  than  that,  I 
believe  that  the  best  and  only  fundamental  way 
of  bringing  about  reform  is  not  by  revolution, 
not  through  political  machinery  that  tries  to 
control  and  direct  the  individual  from  the  out- 
side, but  by  education,  which  gets  at  the  in- 
dividual from  within;  in  short,  fits  him  for  life 
but  leaves  him  free. 

There  is  much  in  the  history  of  the  agricultural 
labourers  of  Hungary  and  Italy  that  is  interest- 
ing to  any  one  who  has  studied  the  condition  of 
the  Negro  farm  labourer  in  the  South.  In  many 
respects  their  history  has  been  the  same.  There 
is,  however,  this  difference:  When  the  serfs 
were  freed  in  Hungary,  as  in  most  other  parts  of 
Europe,  provision  was  made  to  give  them  land, 
though  to  a  very  large  extentthey  were  denied  the 
political  privileges  enjoyed  by  the  upper  classes. 


STRIKES  AND  FARM  LABOUR  103 

In  Italy  also  it  was  intended,  in  giving  the  serfs 
freedom,  to  give  them  likewise  land.  Again,  when 
the  vast  estates  of  the  Church  were  taken  over 
by  the  State,  an  attempt  was  made  to  increase 
the  class  of  small  owners  and  to  give  the  land  to 
the  people  who  tilled  it.  In  both  cases,  however, 
it  was  but  a  few  years  before  the  greater  portion 
of  the  peasant  owners  were  wiped  out  and  their 
lands  absorbed  into  the  large  estates.  At  the 
present  time  the  small  landowners,  under  the 
influence  of  education  'and  agricultural  organiza- 
tion, are  gaining  ground,  and  both  countries, 
in  the  interest  of  agriculture,  are  seeking  to  en- 
courage this  movement. 

The  case  of  the  Negro  was  just  the  opposite. 
When  the  masses  of  the  Negro  people  were 
turned  loose  from  slavery  they  carried  in  their 
hands  the  ballot  that  they  did  not  know  how  to 
use,  but  they  took  no  property  with  them.  At 
the  present  time,  I  believe,  by  a  conservative 
estimate,  that  the  Negroes  in  the  South  own  not 
less  than  twenty  million  acres  of  land,  an  area 
equal  to  the  five  New  England  States  of  Ver- 
mont, New  Hampshire,  Massachusetts,  Rhode 
Island,  and  Connecticut. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Negroes  have  largely 
lost,  at  least  temporarily,  many  of  the  political 
privileges  which  were  given  them  at  emancipa- 
tion.    The  experience  of  the  peasants  of  Europe, 


104  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

just  as  the  experience  of  the  Negro  in  America, 
has  served  to  confirm  an  opinion  I  have  long 
held  —  namely,  that  it  is  very  hard  for  a  man 
to  keep  anything  that  he  has  not  earned  or  does 
not  know  how  to  use.  And  in  most  cases,  the 
best  way  and,  in  fact,  the  only  way  to  insure 
any  people  in  the  possession  either  of  property 
or  political  privileges  is  to  fit  them  by  education 
to  use  these  gifts  for  their  own  good  and  for  the 
highest  good  of  the  community  in  which  they 
live. 

The  peasants  were  given  land  without  effort 
on  their  part  and  soon  lost  it.  The  masses  of 
the  Negroes  were  given  the  ballot  without 
effort  on  their  part  and  they  soon  lost  it.  The 
peasants  are  now  gradually  gaining  the  land 
through  their  own  efi'ort  and  are  keeping  it. 
The  masses  of  Negroes  are  gradually  gaining 
the  ballot  through  their  own  effort,  and  are 
likely  to  keep  it  when  so  gained. 


CHAPTER  VII 

NAPLES  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  EMIGRANT 

I  HAD  crossed  Europe  from  north  to  south 
before  I  got  my  first  glimpse  of  an  emigrant 
bound  for  America.  On  the  way  from 
Vienna  to  Naples  I  stopped  at  midnight  at 
Rome,  and  In  the  Interval  between  trains  I 
spent  an  hour  in  wandering  about  in  the  soft 
southern  air  —  such  air  as  I  had  not  found  any- 
where since  I  left  my  home  In  Alabama. 

In  returning  to  the  station  my  curiosity  was 
aroused,  as  I  was  passing  in  the  shadow  of  the 
building,  by  what  seemed  to  me  a  large  vacant 
room  near  the  main  entrance  to  the  station.  As 
I  attempted  to  enter  this  room  I  stumbled  over 
the  figure  of  a  man  lying  on  the  stone  floor. 
Looking  farther,  I  saw  something  like  forty  or 
fifty  persons,  men  as  well  as  women,  lying  on 
the  floor,  their  faces  turned  toward  the  wall, 
asleep. 

The  room  Itself  was  apparently  bare  and 
empty  of  all  furniture.  There  was  neither  a 
bench  nor  a  table,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  in  any 
part  of  the  room.     It  seems  that,  without  any 

los 


io6  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

expectation  of  doing  so,  I  had  wandered  into 
the  room  reserved  for  emigrants,  and  came  acci- 
dentally upon  one  of  the  sights  I  most  wanted 
to  see  in  Italy  —  namely,  a  party  of  emigrants 
bound  for  America. 

As  near  as  I  could  learn,  these  people  were, 
for  the  most  part,  peasants,  who  had  come  in 
from  the  surrounding  country,  carrying  what 
little  property  they  possessed  on  their  backs  or 
tied  up  in  little  bundles  in  their  arms,  and  were 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  train  that  was  to  take 
them  to  the  port  from  which  they  could  take 
ship  for  America. 

I  confess  it  struck  me  as  rather  pathetic  that, 
in  this  splendid  new  and  modern  railway  station, 
in  which  the  foreign  traveller  and  the  native 
Italian  of  the  upper  classes  were  provided  with 
every  convenience  and  luxury,  so  little  thought 
had  been  given  to  the  comfort  of  these  humble 
travellers,  who  represent  the  people  in  Italy  who 
pay  proportionately  most  of  the  taxes,  and  who, 
by  their  patient  industry  and  thrift,  have  con- 
tributed more  than  any  other  class  to  such  prog- 
ress as  Italy  has  made  in  recent  years. 

Later  on  I  had  an  opportunity  to  pass  through 
the  country  from  which  perhaps  the  majority 
of  these  emigrants  had  come.  I  travelled 
through  a  long  stretch  of  country  where  one 
sees  only  now  and  then  a  lonesome  shepherd  or 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  EMIGRANT         107 

a  wretched  hut  with  one  low  room  and  a  cow- 
stall.  I  also  visited  some  of  the  little  villages 
which  one  sees  clinging  to  the  barren  hilltops, 
to  escape  the  poisonous  mists  of  the  plains  below. 
There  I  saw  the  peasants  in  their  homes  and 
learned  something  of  the  way  in  which  the  lowly 
people  in  the  rural  districts  have  been  neglected 
and  oppressed.  After  that  I  was  able  to  under- 
stand that  it  was  no  special  hardship  that  these 
emigrants  suffered  at  Rome.  Perhaps  many 
of  them  had  never  before  slept  in  a  place  so 
clean  and  sanitary  as  the  room  the  railway 
provided  them. 

Early  the  next  morning,  as  my  train  was  ap- 
proaching Naples,  my  attention  was  attracted 
by  the  large  number  of  women  I  saw  at  work  in 
the  fields.  It  was  not  merely  the  number  of 
women  but  the  heavy  wrought-iron  hoes,  of  a 
crude  and  primitive  manufacture,  with  which 
these  women  worked  that  aroused  my  interest. 
These  hoes  were  much  like  the  heavy  tools  I 
had  seen  the  slaves  use  on  the  plantations  before 
the  Civil  War.  With  these  heavy  instruments 
some  of  the  women  seemed  to  be  hacking  the 
soil,  apparently  preparing  it  for  cultivation; 
others  wxre  merely  leaning  wearily  upon  their 
tools,  as  if  they  were  over-tired  with  the  exertion. 
This  seemed  quite  possible  to  me,  because  the 
Italian  women  are  slighter  and  not  as  robust  as 


io8  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

the  women  I  had  seen  at  work  in  the  fields  in 
Austria. 

I  inquired  why  it  was  that  I  saw  so  many 
women  in  the  fields  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
for  I  had  understood  that  Italian  women,  as  a 
rule,  did  not  go  so  frequently  into  field  work 
as  the  women  do  in  Austria  and  Hungary.  I 
learned  that  it  was  because  so  many  of  the  men 
who  formerly  did  this  work  had  emigrated  to 
America.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  three  fourths 
of  the  emigration  from  Italy  to  America  comes 
from  Sicily  and  the  other  southern  provinces. 
There  are  villages  in  lower  Italy  which  have 
been  practically  deserted.  There  are  others 
in  which  no  one  but  women  and  old  men  are 
left  behind,  and  the  whole  population  is  more 
than  half  supported  by  the  earnings  of  Italian 
labourers  in  America.  There  are  cities  within 
twenty  miles  of  Naples  which  have  lost  within 
ten  years  two  thirds  of  their  inhabitants.  In 
fact,  there  is  one  little  village  not  far  from  the 
city  of  which  it  is  said  that  the  entire  male 
population  is  in  America. 

Ten  days  later,  coming  north  from  Sicily,  I 
passed  through  the  farming  country  south  of 
Naples^  from  which  large  numbers  of  emigrants 
go  every  year  to  the  United  States.  It  is  a  sad 
and  desolate  region.  Earthquakes,  malaria,  an- 
tiquated methods  of  farming,  and  the  general 


J 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  EMIGRANT        109 

neglect  of  the  agricultural  population  have  all 
contributed  to  the  miseries  of  the  people.  The 
land  itself  —  at  least  such  portion  of  it  as  I 
saw  —  looks  old,  wornout,  and  decrepit;  and 
the  general  air  of  desolation  is  emphasized  when, 
as  happened  in  my  case,  one  comes  suddenly, 
in  the  midst  of  the  desolate  landscape,  upon 
some  magnificent  and  lonely  ruin  representing 
the  ancient  civilization  that  flourished  here 
two  thousand  years  ago. 

Statistics  which  have  been  recently  collected, 
after  an  elaborate  investigation  by  the  Italian 
Government,  show  that,  in  a  general  way,  the 
extent  of  emigration  from  southern  Italy  is  in 
direct  ratio  to  the  neglect  of  the  agricultural 
classes.  Where  the  wages  are  smallest  and  the 
conditions  hardest,  there  emigration  has  reached 
the  highest  mark.  In  other  words,  it  is  precisely 
from  those  parts  of  Italy  where  there  are  the 
greatest  poverty,  crime,  and  ignorance  that  the 
largest  number  of  emigrants  from  Italy  go  out 
to  America,  and,  I  might  add,  the  smallest 
number  return.  Of  the  511,935  emigrants  who 
came  to  North  and  South  America  from  Italy 
in  1906,  380,  615  came  from  Sicily  and  the  south- 
ern provinces. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  experiences  I  had 
while  in  Europe  was  in  observing  the  number 
of  different  classes  and  races  there  are  in  Europe 


no  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

who  look  down  upon,  and  take  a  hopeless  view 
of,  certain  of  their  neighbours  because  they 
regard  them  as  inferior.  For  example,  one  of 
the  first  things  I  learned  in  Italy  was  that  the 
people  in  northern  Italy  look  down  upon  the 
people  of  southern  Italy  as  an  inferior  race.  I 
heard  and  read  many  times  while  I  was  in  Italy 
stories  and  anecdotes  illustrating  the  childish- 
ness, the  superstition,  and  the  ignorance  of  the 
peasant  people  and  the  lower  classes  generally 
in  southern  Italy.  In  fact,  nothing  that  I  have 
known  or  heard  about  the  superstition  of  the 
Negro  people  in  America  compares  with  what 
I  heard  about  the  superstition  of  the  Italian 
peasants.  What  surprised  me  more  was  to 
learn  that  statistics  gathered  by  the  Italian 
Government  indicate  that  in  southern  Italy, 
contrary  to  the  experience  of  every  other  coun- 
try, the  agricultural  labourers  are  physically 
inferior  to  every  other  class  of  the  population. 
The  people  in  the  rural  districts  are  shorter  of 
stature  and  in  a  poorer  condition  generally  than 
they  are  in  the  cities. 

For  all  these  reasons  I  was  the  more  anxious 
to  learn  for  myself  what  these  people  were  like. 
I  wanted  to  find  out  precisely  in  what  this  in- 
feriority of  the  southern  Italian  consisted,  be- 
cause I  knew  that  these  people  were  very  largely 
descended  from  the  ancient  Greeks,  who,  by 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  EMIGRANT         iii 

reputation  at  least,  were  the  most  gifted  people 
the  world  has  ever  known. 

The  city  of  Naples  offers  some  advantages 
for  studying  the  southern  population,  since  it  is 
the  port  at  which  the  stream  of  emigration  from 
the  small  towns  and  farming  districts  of  the 
interior  reaches  the  sea.  The  exportation  of 
labourers  to  America  is  one  of  the  chief  busi- 
nesses of  that  city.  It  was  at  Naples,  then,  that 
I  gained  my  earliest  first-hand  acquaintance 
with  the  Italians  of  the  south. 

I  think  the  thing  that  impressed  me  most 
about  Naples  was  the  contrast  between  the 
splendour  of  its  natural  surroundings,  the  ele- 
gance and  solidity  of  its  buildings,  and  the 
dirt,  disorder,  and  squalor  in  which  the  masses 
of  the  people  live.  It  was  early  morning  when 
I  arrived  in  the  city  for  the  first  time.  The  sun, 
which  was  just  rising  over  the  black  mass  of 
Vesuvius,  flooded  the  whole  city  and  the  sur- 
rounding country  with  the  most  enchanting 
light.  In  this  soft  light  the  gray  and  white- 
masses  of  the  city  buildings,  piled  against  the 
projecting  hillside  to  the  right  and  stretching 
away  along  the  curving  shores  to  the  left,  made 
a  picture  which  I  shall  never  forget. 

Some  of  this  sunshine  seemed  to  have  got  into 
the  veins  of  the  people,  too,  for  I  never  saw  any- 
where so  much   sparkle  and   colour,   so  much 


112  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

life  and  movement,  as  I  did  among  the  people 
who  throng  the  narrow  streets  of  Naples.  I 
never  heard  before  so  many  curious  human 
noises  or  saw  such  vivid  and  expressive  gestures. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  never  saw  anywhere  before 
so  many  beggars,  so  many  barefooted  men,  so 
many  people  waiting  at  the  station  and  around 
the  streets  to  pick  up  a  casual  job.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  there  were  at  least  six  porters  to  every 
passenger  who  got  off  the  train,  and  these  porters 
were  evidently  well  organized,  for  I  had  the 
experience  of  seeing  myself  and  my  effects 
calmly  parcelled  out  among  half  a  dozen  of 
them,  every  one  of  whom  demanded,  of  course, 
a  separate  fee  for  his  services. 

My  experience  in  Europe  leads  me  to  con- 
clude that  the  number  of  casual  labourers, 
hucksters,  vagabonds,  and  hunters  of  odd  jobs 
one  meets  in  a  city  is  a  pretty  good  index  of  the 
condition  of  the  masses  of  the  people.  By  this 
measure  I  think  that  I  should  have  been  able 
to  say  at  the  outset  that  there  was  in  Naples 
a  larger  class  living  in  the  dirt,  degradation, 
and  ignorance  at  the  bottom  of  society  than  in 
any  other  city  I  visited  in  Europe.  I  make  this 
statement  even  though  cities  like  Catania  and 
Palermo,  in  Sicily,  which  are  surrounded  by  an 
agricultural  population  just  as  wretched,  are  little, 
if  any,  better  than  Naples  in  this  respect. 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  EMIGRANT        113 

Very  few  persons  who  go  to  Naples  merely  as 
sightseers  ever  get  acquainted,  I  suspect,  with 
the  actual  conditions  of  the  people.  Most  trav- 
ellers who  see  Naples  are  carried  away  by  the 
glamour  of  the  sunshine,  the  colour,  and  the 
vivacity  of  the  Italian  temperament.  For  that 
reason  they  do  not  see  the  hard  struggle  for 
existence  which  goes  on  in  the  narrow  streets 
of  the  city,  or,  if  they  do,  they  look  upon  the 
shifts  and  devices  to  which  this  light-hearted 
people  are  driven  in  order  to  live  as  merely  part 
of  the  picturesqueness  of  the  southern  life  and 
people. 

I  have  been  more  than  once  through  the  slums 
and  poorer  quarters  of  the  coloured  people  of 
New  Orleans,  Atlanta,  Philadelphia,  and  New 
York,  and  my  personal  observation  convinces 
me  that  the  coloured  population  of  these  cities 
is  in  every  way  many  per  cent,  better  off  than 
the  corresponding  classes  in  Naples  and  the 
other  Italian  cities  I  have  named.  As  far  as 
the  actual  hardships  they  have  to  endure  or  the 
opportunities  open  to  them,  the  condition  of  the 
Negroes  in  these  cities  does  not  compare,  in  my 
opinion,  with  that  of  the  masses  of  the  Italians 
in  these  southern  Italian  cities. 

There  is  this  difference  also:  the  majority  of 
the  Negroes  in  the  large  cities  of  the  South  and 
North  in  the  United  States  are  from  the  coun- 


114  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

try.  They  have  been  accustomed  to  range  and 
wander  in  a  country  where  life  was  loose  and 
simple,  and  existence  hardly  a  problem.  They 
have  not  been  accustomed  to  either  the  com- 
forts or  the  hardships  of  complex  city  life.  In 
the  case  of  the  Italians,  life  in  the  crowded, 
narrow  streets,  and  the  unsanitary  intimacy 
and  confusion  in  which  men,  goats,  and  cattle 
here  mingle,  have  become  the  fixed  habit  of 
centuries. 

It  is  not  an  unusual  thing,  for  instance,  to  find 
a  cow  or  a  mule  living  in  close  proximity,  if 
not  in  the  same  room,  with  the  rest  of  the  family, 
and,  in  spite  of  the  skill  and  artistic  taste  which 
show  themselves  everywhere  in  the  construction 
and  decoration  of  the  buildings,  the  dirt  and 
disorder  in  which  the  people  live  in  these  build- 
ings are  beyond  description.  Frequently,  in 
passing  through  the  streets  of  these  southern 
cities,  one  meets  a  herd  of  goats  wandering 
placidly  along  over  the  stone  pavements,  nib- 
bling here  and  there  in  the  gutters  or  holding  up 
in  front  of  a  house  to  be  milked. 

Even  where  the  city  government  has  made  the 
effort  to  widen  and  improve  the  streets,  let  in 
air  and  sunlight,  and  maintain  sanitary  con- 
ditions, the  masses  of  the  people  have  not  yet 
learned  to  make  use  of  these  conveniences.  I 
recall,  in  passing  along  one  of  these  streets,  in 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  EMIGRANT         115 

the  centre  of  the  city,  which  had  been  recently 
laid  out  with  broad  stone  sidewalks  and  built 
up  with  handsome  three  and  four  story  stone 
buildings,  seeing  a  man  and  a  cow  standing  on 
the  sidewalk  at  the  corner  of  the  street.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  the  natural  thing  would  have 
been  to  let  the  cow  stand  In  the  street  and  not 
obstruct  the  sidewalk.  But  these  people  evi- 
dently look  upon  the  cow  as  having  the  same 
rights  as  other  members  of  the  population. 
While  the  man  who  owned  the  cow  was  engaged 
in  milking,  a  group  of  women  from  the  neigh- 
bouring tenements  stood  about  with  their 
pitchers  and  gossiped,  awaiting  their  turn  at  the 
cow. 

This  method  of  distributing  milk  —  namely, 
by  driving  the  animal  to  the  front  door  and 
milking  while  you  wait  —  has  some  advantages. 
It  makes  it  unnecessary  to  sterilize  the  milk, 
and  adulteration  becomes  impracticable.  The 
disadvantage  is  that,  in  order  to  make  this 
method  of  milk  delivery  possible,  the  cow  and 
the  goat  must  become  city  dwellers  and  live 
in  the  same  narrow  streets  with  the  rest  of  the 
population.  Whatever  may  be  true  of  the  goat, 
however,  I  am  sure  that  the  cow  is  not  naturally 
adapted  to  city  life,  and  where,  as  is  true  in  many 
instances,  whole  families  are  forced  to  crowd 
into  one  or  two  rooms,  the  cow-stall  is  likely  to 


ii6*  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

be  still  more  crowded.  Under  these  conditions 
I  am  sure  that  the  average  cow  is  going  to  be 
neither  healthy  nor  happy. 

For  my  purposes  it  is  convenient  to  divide 
the  life  of  Naples  into  three  classes.  There  is 
the  life  of  the  main  avenues  or  boulevards,  where 
one  sees  all  that  is  charming  in  Neapolitan  life. 
The  buildings  are  handsome,  streets  are  filled 
wath  carriages,  sidewalks  are  crowded  with 
handsomely  dressed  people.  Occasionally  one 
sees  a  barefooted  beggar  asleep  on  the  marble 
steps  of  some  public  building.  Sometimes  one 
sees,  as  I  did,  a  woman  toiling  up  the  long  street 
side  by  side  w^ith  a  donkey  pulling  a  cart.  There 
are  a  good  many  beggars,  but  even  they  are 
cheerful,  and  they  hold  out  their  hands  to  you 
with  a  roguish  twinkle  in  their  eyes  that  some- 
how charms  the  pennies  out  of  your  pocket. 

Then  there  is  the  life  of  the  narrower  streets, 
which  stretch  out  in  an  intricate  network  all 
over  the  older  part  of  the  city.  Many  of  these 
streets  contain  the  homes  as  well  as  the  work- 
shops of  the  artisan  class.  Others  are  filled  with 
the  petty  traffic  of  hucksters  and  small  trades- 
men. In  one  street  you  may  find  a  long  row 
of  pushcarts,  with  fish  and  vegetables,  or  strings 
of  cheap  meat  dangling  from  cords,  surrounded 
by  a  crowd,  chaffering  and  gesticulating  —  Nea- 
politan bargain-hunters.     In  another  street  you 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  EMIGRANT         117 

win  find,  Intermingled  with  the  little  shops, 
skilled  artisans  with  their  benches  pushed  half 
into  the  street,  at  work  at  their  various  tasks. 
Here  you  will  see  a  wood-carver  at  his  open 
doorway,  busily  engaged  in  carving  out  an  ele- 
gant bit  of  furniture,  while  In  the  back  of  the 
shop  his  wife  Is  likely  to  be  engaged  In  getting 
the  midday  meal.  A  little  farther  along  you 
may  meet  a  goldsmith,  a  worker  In  iron  or  in 
copper.  One  Is  making  a  piece  of  jewellery, 
the  other  Is  mending  a  kettle.  In  these  streets 
one  sees.  In  fact,  all  the  old  handicrafts  carried 
on  In  much  the  same  manner  and  apparently 
with  the  same  skill  that  they  were  carried  on 
three  hundred  years  ago. 

Finally,  there  are  the  narrovv'er,  darker,  dirtier 
streets  which  are  not  picturesque  and  into  which 
no  ordinary  traveller  ventures.  This  seldom- 
visited  region  was,  however,  the  one  in  which  I 
was  particularly  interested,  for  I  had  come  to 
Naples  to  see  the  people  and  to  see  the  worst. 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  the  hotel  where  I 
stayed  there  was  a  narrow,  winding  street  which 
led  by  a  stone  staircase  from  the  main  thorough- 
fare up  the  projecting  hillside  to  one  of  those 
dark  and  obscure  alleyways  for  which  Naples, 
in  spite  of  the  improvements  which  have  been 
made  in  recent  years,  is  still  noted.  Near  the 
foot  of  the  stairs  there  was  a  bakery,  and  not 


ii8  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

far  away  was  the  office  of  the  State  Lottery. 
The  little  street  to  which  I  refer  is  chiefly 
inhabited  by  fishermen  and  casual  labourers, 
who  belong  to  the  poorest  class  of  the  city. 
They  are  the  patrons  also  of  the  lottery  and  the 
bakery,  for  there  is  no  part  of  Naples  that  is  so 
poor  that  it  does  not  support  the  luxury  of  a 
lottery;  and,  I  might  add,  there  are  few  places 
of  business  that  are  carried  on  in  a  filthier  manner 
than  these  bakeries  of  the  poorer  classes. 

I  was  passing  this  place  late  in  the  afternoon, 
when  I  was  surprised  to  see  a  huckster  —  I 
think  he  was  a  fish  vender  —  draw  up  his  wagon 
at  the  foot  of  this  stone  staircase  and  begin  un- 
hitching his  mule.  I  looked  on  with  some 
curiosity,  because  I  could  not,  for  the  life  of  me, 
make  out  where  he  was  going  to  put  that  ani- 
mal after  he  had  unhitched  him.  Presently  the 
mule,  having  been  freed  from  the  wagon,  turned 
of  his  own  motion  and  began  clambering  up  the 
staircase.     I  was  so  interested  that  I  followed. 

A  little  way  up  the  hill  the  staircase  turned 
into  a  dark  and  dirty  alleyway,  which,  however, 
was  crowded  with  people.  Most  of  them  were 
sitting  in  their  doorways  or  in  the  street;  some 
were  knitting,  some  were  cooking  over  little 
charcoal  braziers  which  were  placed  out  in  the 
street.  One  family  had  the  table  spread  in  the 
middle  of  the  road  and  had  just  sat  down  very 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  EMIGRANT         119 

contentedly  to  their  evening  meal.  The  street 
was  strewn  with  old  bottles,  dirty  papers,  and 
all  manner  of  trash;  at  the  same  time  it  was 
filled  with  sprawling  babies  and  with  chickens, 
not  to  mention  goats  and  other  household 
appurtenances.  The  mule,  however,  was  evi- 
dently familiar  with  the  situation,  and  made  his 
way  along  the  street,  without  creating  any  sur- 
prise or  disturbance,  to  his  own  home. 

I  visited  several  other  streets  during  my  stay 
in  Naples  which  were,  if  possible,  in  a  worse 
condition  than  the  one  I  have  described.  In  a 
city  where  every  one  lives  in  the  streets  more 
than  half  the  time,  and  where  all  the  intimate 
business  of  life  is  carried  on  with  a  frankness  and 
candour  of  which  we  in  America  have  no  con- 
ception, there  is  little  difficulty  in  seeing  how 
people  live.  I  noted,  for  example,  instances 
in  which  the  whole  family,  to  the  number  of  six 
or  seven,  lived  in  a  single  room,  on  a  dirt  floor, 
without  a  single  window.  More  than  that,  this 
one  room,  which  was  in  the  basement  of  a  large 
tenement  house,  was  not  as  large  as  the  average 
one-room  Negro  cabin  in  the  South.  In  one  of 
these  one-room  homes  I  visited  there  was  a 
blacksmith  shop  in  one  part  of  the  room,  while 
the  family  ate  and  slept  in  the  other  part.  The 
room  was  so  small  that  I  took  the  trouble  to 
measure  it,  and  found  it  8  x  13  feet  in  size. 


I20  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

Many  of  these  homes  of  the  poorer  classes  are 
nothing  better  than  dark  and  damp  cellars. 
More  than  once  I  found  in  these  dark  holes  sick 
children  and  invalid  men  and  women  living  in  a 
room  in  which  no  ray  of  light  entered  except 
through  the  open  door.  Sometimes  there  would 
be  a  little  candle  burning  in  front  of  a 
crucifix  beside  the  bed  of  the  invalid,  but 
this  flickering  taper,  lighting  up  some  pale, 
wan  face,  only  emphasized  the  dreary  sur- 
roundings. It  was  a  constant  source  of  sur- 
prise to  me  that  under  such  conditions  these 
people  could  be  so  cheerful,  friendly,  and  ap- 
parently contented. 

I  made  some  inquiry  as  to  what  sort  of  amuse- 
ments they  had.  I  found  that  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal forms  of  amusement  of  this  class  of  people 
is  gambling.  What  seems  stranger  still,  this  vice 
is  in  Italy  a  Government  monopoly.  The  state, 
through  its  control  of  the  lottery,  adds  to  the 
other  revenue  which  it  extracts  from  the  people 
not  less  than  five  million  dollars  a  year,  and 
this  sum  comes,  for  the  most  part,  from  the 
very  poorest  part  of  the  population. 

There  are,  it  seems,  something  like  1,700  or 
1,800  offices  scattered  through  the  several  large 
cities  of  Italy  where  the  people  may  buy  lottery 
tickets.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the  majority  of 
these  offices  must  be  in  Naples,  for  in  going 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  EMIGRANT         121 

about  the  city  I  saw  them  almost  everywhere, 
particularly  in  the  poorer  quarters. 

These  lottery  offices  were  so  interesting  that 
I  determined  to  visit  one  myself  and  learn  how 
the  game  was  played.  It  seems  that  there  is  a 
drawing  every  Saturday.  Any  one  may  bet,  what- 
ever amount  he  chooses,  that  a  number  some- 
where between  one  and  ninety  will  turn  up  in 
the  drawing.  Five  numbers  are  drawn.  If  you 
win,  the  lottery  pays  ten  to  one.  You  may  also 
bet  that  any  two  of  the  five  numbers  drawn  will 
turn  up  in  succession.  In  that  case,  the  bank 
pays  the  winner  something  like  fifty  to  one. 
You  may  also  bet  that  three  out  of  five  will  turn 
up,  and  in  case  you  win  the  bank  pays  250  times 
the  amount  you  bet.  Of  course  the  odds  are 
very  much  against  the  player,  and  it  is  estimated 
that  the  state  gets  about  50  per  cent,  of  all  the 
money  that  is  paid  in.  The  art  of  the  game 
consists,  according  to  popular  superstition,  in 
picking  a  lucky  number.  In  order  to  pick  a  lucky 
number,  however,  one  must  go  to  a  fortune-teller 
and  have  one's  dreams  interpreted,  or  one  must 
pick  a  number  according  to  some  striking  event, 
for  it  is  supposed  that  every  event  of  any  im- 
portance suggests  some  lucky  number.  Of  course 
all  this  makes  the  game  more  interesting  and 
complicated,  but  it  is,  after  all,  a  very  expensive 
form  of  amusement  for  poor  people. 


122  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

From  all  that  I  can  learn,  public  sentiment 
in  Italy  Is  rapidly  being  aroused  to  the  evils 
which  cling  to  the  present  system  of  dealing  with 
the  agricultural  labourer  and  the  poorer  classes. 
But  Italy  has  not  done  well  by  her  lower  classes 
in  the  past.  She  has  oppressed  them  with  heavy 
taxes;  has  maintained  a  land  system  that  has 
worn  out  the  soil  at  the  same  time  that  it  has 
impoverished  the  labourer;  has  left  the  agri- 
cultural labourers  in  Ignorance;  has  failed  to 
protect  them  from  the  rapacity  of  the  large 
landowners;  and  has  finally  driven  them  to  seek 
their  fortunes  in  a  foreign  land. 

In  return,  these  emigrants  have  repaid  their 
native  country  by  vastly  increasing  her  foreign 
commerce,  by  pouring  back  into  Italy  the  earn- 
ings they  have  made  abroad,  by  themselves 
returning  with  new  ideas  and  new  ambitions 
and  entering  into  the  work  of  building  up  the 
country. 

These  returned  emigrants  have  brought 
back  to  the  mother  country  improved  farming 
machinery,  new  methods  of  labour,  and  new 
capital.  Italian  emigrants  abroad  not  only 
contribute  to  their  mother  country  a  sum  esti- 
mated at  between  five  and  six  million  dollars 
annually,  but  Italian  emigration  has  awakened 
Italy  to  the  value  of  her  labouring  classes,  and 
in  doing  this  has  laid  the  foundation  for  the 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  EMIGRANT        123 

prosperity  of  the  whole  country.  In  fact,  Italy 
is  another  illustration  that  the  condition  of  the 
man  at  the  bottom  affects  the  life  of  every  class 
above  him.  It  is  to  the  class  lowest  down  that 
Italy  largely  owes  what  prosperity  she  has  as 
yet  attained. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    LABOURER    AND    THE    LAND    IN    SICILY 

AMONG  the  things  that  make  Sicily 
interesting  are  its  ruins.  There  are 
dead  cities  which  even  in  their  decay  are 
larger  and  more  magnificent  than  the  living 
cities  that  have  grown  up  beside  them  — 
larger  and  more  magnificent  even  than  any 
living  city  in  Sicily  to-day.  There  are  relics 
of  this  proud  and  ancient  past  everywhere  in 
this  country. 

In  the  modern  city  of  Catania,  for  example, 
I  came  suddenly  one  day  upon  the  ruins  of  the 
forum  of  a  Roman  city  which  was  buried  under 
the  modern  Italian  one.  At  Palermo  I  learned 
that  when  the  members  of  the  Mafia,  which  is 
the  Sicilian  name  for  the  '*  Black  Hand,"  want 
to  conceal  a  murder  they  have  committed,  they 
put  the  body  in  one  of  the  many  ancient  tombs 
outside  the  city,  and  leave  it  there  for  some 
archaeologist  to  discover  and  learn  from  it  the 
interesting  fact  that  the  ancient  inhabitants 
of  Sicily  were  in  all  respects  like  the  modern 
inhabitants. 

124 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  125 

Among  the  other  antiquities  that  one  may 
see  in  Sicily,  however,  is  a  system  of  agricul- 
ture and  method  of  tilling  the  soil  that  is  two 
thousand  years  old.  In  fact,  some  of  the  tools 
still  in  use  in  the  interior  of  the  island  are  older 
than  the  ruins  of  those  ancient  heathen  tem- 
ples, some  of  which  were  built  five  centuries 
before  Christ.  These  living  survivals,  I  con- 
fess, were  more  interesting  to  me  than  the  dead 
relics  of  the  past. 

These  things  are  not  easy  to  find.  The  guide- 
books mention  them,  but  do  not  tell  you  where 
to  look  for  them.  Nevertheless,  if  one  looks 
long  enough  and  in  the  right  place  it  is  still 
possible  to  see  in  Sicily  men  scratching  the  field 
with  an  antique  wooden  plow,  which,  it  is  said, 
although  I  cannot  vouch  for  that,  is  mentioned 
in  Homer.  One  may  see  a  Sicilian  farmer 
laboriously  pumping  water  to  irrigate  his  cab-^ 
bage  garden  with  a  water-wheel  that  was  im- 
ported by  the  Saracens;  or  one  may  see,  as  I 
did,  a  wine  press  that  is  as  old  as  Solomon,  and 
men  cutting  the  grapes  and  making  the  wine 
by  the  same  methods  that  are  described  in  the 
Bible. 

It  was  my  purpose  in  going  to  Sicily  to  see, 
if  possible,  some  of  the  life  of  the  man  who  works 
on  the  soil.  I  w^anted  to  get  to  the  people  who 
lived    in    the    little   villages    remote    from    the 


126  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

larger  cities.  I  was  anxious  to  talk  with  some 
of  these  herdsmen  I  had  seen  at  a  distance, 
wandering  about  the  lonesome  hillsides,  tend- 
ing their  goats  and  their  cows  and  perhaps 
counting  the  stars  as  the  shepherds  did  in  the 
time  of  Abraham.  As  there  are  some  800,000 
persons  engaged  in  agriculture  in  one  way  or 
another,  it  did  not  seem  to  me  that  this  would 
be  difficult.  In  spite  of  this  fact,  if  I  may  judge 
by  my  own  experience,  one  of  the  most  difficult 
persons  to  meet  and  get  acquainted  with  in  this 
country,  where  many  things  are  strange  and 
hard  to  understand,  is  the  man  who  works  out 
in  the  open  country  on  the  land. 

Even  after  one  does  succeed  in  finding  this 
man,  it  is  necessary  to  go  back  into  history  two 
or  three  hundred  years  and  know  a  great  deal 
about  local  conditions  before  one  can  under- 
stand the  methods  by  which  he  works  and 
thinks.  In  fact,  I  constantly  had  the  feeling 
while  I  was  in  Sicily  that  I  was  among  people 
who  were  so  saturated  with  antiquity,  so  out  of 
touch,  except  on  the  surface,  with  modern  life, 
so  imbedded  in  ancient  habits  and  customs, 
that  it  would  take  a  very  long  time,  perhaps 
years,  to  get  any  real  understanding  of  their 
ways  of  thinking  and  living. 

In  saying  this  I  do  not,  of  course,  refer  to  the 
better  classes  who  live  in  the  cities,  and  espe- 


A 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  127 

cially  I  do  not  refer  to  the  great  landowners,  who 
in  Sicily  do  not  live  on  the  land,  but  make  their 
homes  in  the  cities  and  support  themselves  from 
the  rents  which  are  paid  them  by  overseers  or 
middlemen,  to  whom  they  usually  turn  over 
the  entire  management  of  their  properties. 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  the  difficulties  I 
have  mentioned,  I  did  get  some  insight  into  the 
condition  of  the  rural  agricultural  classes  in 
Sicily  —  namely,  the  small  landowner  and 
the  agricultural  labourer  —  and  I  can  perhaps 
best  tell  what  I  learned  by  starting  at  the 
beginning. 

The  first  thing  I  remember  seeing  of  Sicily 
was  a  long  black  headland  w^hich  stretches  out 
into  the  sea  like  a  great  black  arm  toward  the 
ships  that  approach  Palermo  from  Naples. 
After  that  the  dark  mass  of  the  mainland,  bare 
and  brown  and  shining  in  the  morning  light, 
seemed  to  rise  suddenly  out  of  the  smooth  and 
glittering  sea.  A  little  later,  the  whole  splendid 
panorama  of  the  beautiful  bay  of  Palermo  lay 
stretched  out  before  me. 

I  recall  this  picture  now  because  it  suggests 
and  partly  explains  the  charm  which  so  many 
travellers  find  in  this  island,  and  because  it 
stands  out  in  contrast  with  so  much  that  I  saw 
later  when  I  visited  the  interior. 

Sicily  is,   in   this,   like   a   great  many  other 


128  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

places  I  saw  in  Europe:  it  looks  better  on  the 
outside  than  it  looks  on  the  in.  All  the  large 
cities  in  Sicily  are  situated  on  a  narrow  rim  of 
fertile  land  which  encircles  the  island  between 
the  mountains  and  the  sea.  Palermo,  for  ex- 
ample, is  situated  on  a  strip  of  this  rim  which 
is  so  rich  that  it  is  called  the  "Shell  of  Gold." 
In  this  region,  where  the  soil  is  constantly  en- 
riched from  the  weathering  of  the  neighbouring 
mountains,  and  where  agriculture  has  been  car- 
ried to  the  highest  perfection  that  science  and  the 
skill  of  man  can  bring  it,  are  situated  those  won- 
derful orange  and  lemon  groves  for  which  Sicily  is 
famous.  As  an  illustration  of  what  irrigation 
and  intensive  culture  can  do  in  this  soil,  it  is 
stated  that  the  value  of  the  crop  in  this  par- 
ticular region  has  been  increased  by  irrigation 
from  ^8  to  $i6o  an  acre. 

When  one  goes  to  Sicily  to  look  at  the  ag- 
riculture it  is  this  region  that  one  sees  first. 
During  my  first  day  in  Palermo  I  drove  through 
miles  of  these  magnificent  fruit  farms,  all  laid 
out  in  the  most  splendid  style,  surrounded  by 
high  stone  walls,  the  entrance  guarded  by  heavy 
Iron  gates,  and  provided  with  extensive  works 
for  supplying  constant  streams  of  water  to  the 
growing  fruit.  The  whole  country,  which  is 
dotted  with  beautiful  villas  and  winter  palaces, 
Is  less  like  a  series  of  fruit  farms  than  it  is  like 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  129 

one  vast  park.  Here  the  fruit  ripens  practically 
the  whole  year  round.  The  trees  are  heavy 
all  winter  with  growing  fruit,  and  one  can 
wander  for  hours  through  a  forest  of  lemon  and 
orange  trees  so  closely  crowded  together  that 
the  keen  rays  of  the  southern  sun  can  scarcely 
penetrate  their  foliage. 

Palermo,  however,  like  many  other  European 
cities  in  which  the  masses  of  the  people  are 
just  now  emerging  out  of  the  older  civilization 
Into  the  newer  modern  life,  is  divided  into  an 
old  and  a  new  city.  There  is  the  northern  end, 
with  broad  streets  and  handsome  villas,  which 
the  people  call  the  "English  Garden."  This 
Is  the  new  city  and  the  quarter  of  the  wealthy 
classes.  Then  at  the  southern  end  there  is  the 
old  city,  with  crowded,  narrow  and  often  mis- 
erably dirty  streets,  which  is  the  home  of  the 
poorer  class. 

After  visiting  one  or  two  of  the  estates  in 
the  suburbs  at  the  northern  end  of  the  city,  I 
determined  to  see  some  of  the  truck  farms  of 
the  smaller  farmers  w^hich  I  had  heard  were 
located  at  the  south  end  of  the  city.  I  made 
up  my  mind,  also.  If  possible,  to  get  out  into 
the  country,  into  the  wilder  and  less  settled 
regions,  where  I  could  plainly  see  from  my  hotel 
window  the  olive  groves  creeping  up  the  steep 
mountainside  and  almost  visibly  searching  out 


I30  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

the  crevices  and  sheltered  places  on  the  steep 
slopes  in  search  of  water,  which  is  the  one 
missing  ingredient  in  the  soil  and  climate  of 
this  southern  country. 

Now  one  of  the  singular  things  about  Palermo 
and  some  other  cities  in  Sicily  is  that,  as  soon 
as  you  get  to  the  edge  of  the  town,  you  find 
yourself  driving  or  walking  between  high  stone 
walls  which  entirely  shut  out  the  view  in  every 
direction.  We  drove  for  an  hour  through 
these  blind  alleys,  winding  and  twisting  about 
without  seeing  anything  of  the  country  except 
occasionally  the  tops  of  the  trees  above  the 
high  stone  walls  that  guarded  the  farms  on 
either  side.  Occasionally  we  passed  heavy 
iron  gates  which  looked  like  the  gates  of  a 
prison.  Now  and  then  we  came  upon  a  little 
group  of  houses  built  into  the  walls.  These 
barren  little  cells,  lighted  only  by  an  open  door, 
looked  as  if  they  might  be  part  of  a  prison, 
except  for  the  number  of  sprawling  children, 
the  goats,  and  the  chickens,  and  the  gossiping 
housewives  who  sat  outside  their  houses  in  the 
shadow  of  the  wall  sewing,  or  engaged  in  some 
other  ordinary  household  task.  There  was 
scarcely  a  sprig  of  grass  anywhere  tp  be  seen. 
The  roads  frequently  became  almost  impassable 
for  wagons,  and  eventually  degenerated  into 
mere  mule  paths,  through  which  it  seemed  al- 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  131 

most  Impossible,  with  our  carriage,  to  reach  the 
open  country. 

What  added  to  the  prison-like  appearance 
of  the  place  was  the  fact  that,  as  soon  as  we 
approached  the  edge  of  the  town,  we  met,  every 
hundred  yards  or  more,  a  soldier  or  a  police 
officer  sitting  near  his  sentry  box,  guarding 
the  approaches  to  the  city.  When  I  inquired 
what  the  presence  of  these  soldiers  meant,  I 
was  told  that  they  were  customs  officers  and 
were  stationed  there  to  prevent  the  smuggling 
of  food  and  vegetables  into  the  city,  without 
the  payment  of  the  municipal  tax  which,  it 
seems,  is  levied  on  every  particle  of  produce 
that  is  brought  into  the  city.  I  am  sure  that  in 
the  course  of  half  an  hour  we  met  as  many  as 
twenty  of  these  officers  watching  the  highway 
for  smugglers. 

As  we  proceeded,  our  driver,  who  had  made 
several  fruitless  attempts  to  turn  us  aside  into 
an  old  church  or  cemetery,  to  see  the  "antee- 
chee,"  as  he  called  it,  grew  desperate.  When  I 
inquired  what  was  the  trouble  I  learned  that 
we  had  succeeded  in  getting  him  into  a  part  of 
the  city  that  he  had  never  before  visited  in  his 
whole  life,  and  he  was  afraid  that  if  he  went  too 
far  into  some  of  the  roads  in  which  we  urged 
him  to  go  he  would  never  be  able  to  get  back. 
Finally  we  came  to  a  road  that  appeared  to  lead 


132  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

to  a  spot  where  it  seemed  one  could  at  least 
overlook  the  surrounding  country.  We  urged 
him  to  go  on,  but  he  hesitated,  stopped  to  in- 
quire the  way  of  a  passing  peasant  and  then, 
as  if  he  had  made  a  mighty  resolve,  he  whipped 
up  his  horse  and  said  he  would  go  on  even  if 
that  road  took  him  to  "paradise."  All  this 
time  we  were  not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  customs  zone  of  the  city. 

Finally  we  came,  by  good  fortune,  to  a  hole 
in  one  of  the  walls  that  guarded  the  highway. 
We  stopped  the  carriage,  got  out,  clambered 
up  the  steep  bank  and  made  our  way  through 
this  hole  into  the  neighbouring  field.  Then  we 
straightened  up  and  took  a  long  breath  because 
it  seemed  like  getting  out  of  prison  to  be  able 
to  look  about  and  see  something  green  and 
growing  again. 

We  had  hardly  put  our  heads  through  the 
hole  in  this  wall,  however,  when  we  saw  two  or 
three  men  lying  in  the  shade  of  a  little  straw- 
thatched  hut,  in  which  the  guards  sleep  during 
the  harvest  season,  to  keep  the  thieves  from 
carrying  away  the  crops.  As  soon  as  these  men 
saw  us,  one  of  them,  who  seemed  to  be  the 
proprietor,  arose  and  came  toward  us.  We 
explained  that  we  were  from  America  and  that 
we  were  interested  in  agriculture.  As  soon 
as    this    man    learned    that     we     were     from 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  133 

America  he  did  everything  possible  he  could 
to  make  us  welcome.  It  seems  that  these  men 
had  just  sat  down  to  their  evening  meal,  hich 
consisted  of  black  bread  and  tomatoes.  To- 
matoes seemed  to  be  the  principal  part  of  the 
crop  that  this  farmer  was  raising  at  that  time. 
He  invited  us,  in  the  politest  manner  possible, 
to  share  his  meal  with  him  and  seemed  greatly- 
disappointed  that  we  did  not  accept.  Very 
soon  he  began  telling  the  same  story,  which  I 
heard  so  frequently  afterward  during  my  stay 
in  Sicily.  He  had  a  son  in  America,  who  was 
in  a  place  called  Chicago,  he  said,  and  he  wanted 
to  know  if  I  had  ever  heard  of  such  a  place  and 
if  so  perhaps  I  might  have  met  his  son. 

The  old  man  explained  to  me  all  about  his 
farm;  how  he  raised  his  crop  and  how  he  har- 
vested it.  He  had  about  two  acres  of  land,  as 
well  as  I  could  make  out,  for  which  he  paid  in 
rent  about  ^15  per  acre  a  year.  This  included, 
as  I  understood,  the  water  for  irrigation  pur- 
poses. He  admitted  that  it  took  a  lot  of  work 
to  make  a  living  for  himself,  and  the  others  who 
were  helping  him,  from  this  small  piece  of  land. 
It  was  very  hard  to  live  anywhere  in  Sicily, 
he  said,  but  the  people  in  Palermo  were  much 
better  ofT  than  they  were  in  other  places. 

I  asked  him  what  he  would  do  if  his  son  should 
come  back  from  America  with  a  bag  of  money. 


134  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

The  old  man's  face  lighted  up  and  he  said 
promptly,  "Get  some  land  and  have  a  little 
home  of  my  own." 

Many  times  since  then  I  have  asked  the  same 
or  similar  questions  of  some  man  I  met  working 
on  the  soil.  Everywhere  I  received  the  same  an- 
swer. Everywhere  among  the  masses  of  the 
people  is  this  desire  to  get  close  to  the  soil  and 
own  a  piece  of  land  of  their  own. 

From  where  we  stood  we  could  look  out  over 
the  country  and  see  in  several  places  the  elab- 
orate and  expensive  works  that  had  been  erected 
for  pumping  water  by  steam  for  the  purposes 
of  irrigation.  One  of  the  small  farmers  I 
visited  had  a  small  engine  in  the  back  of  his 
house  which  he  used  to  irrigate  a  garden  of 
cauliflower  about  four  acres  in  extent.  This 
man  lived  in  a  little  low  stone  and  stucco  house, 
but  he  was,  I  learned,  one  of  the  well-to-do  class. 
He  had  an  engine  for  pumping  water  which 
cost  him,  he  said,  about  ^500.  I  saw  as  I 
entered  his  place  a  little  stream  of  water,  not 
much  larger  than  my  thumb,  drizzling  out  of 
the  side  of  the  house  and  trickling  out  into  the 
garden.  He  said  it  cost  him  between  $4.  and 
$^  a  day  to  run  that  engine.  The  coal  he  used 
came  from  England. 

I  had  seen,  as  I  entered  the  Palermo  harbour, 
the  manner  in  which  this  coal  was  unloaded, 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  135 

and  it  gave  me  the  first  tangible  evidence  I  had 
found  of  the  cheapness  of  human  labour  in  this 
over-populated  country.  Instead  of  the  great 
machines  which  are  used  for  that  purpose  in 
America  and  England,  I  learned,  this  work  was 
all  done  by  hand. 

In  order  to  take  this  coal  from  the  ship  it 
was  first  loaded  into  baskets,  which  were  swung 
over  the  side  of  the  vessel  and  there  piled  upon 
a  lighter.  This  lighter  was  then  moved  from 
the  ships  to  the  shore.  The  baskets  were  then 
lifted  out  by  hand  and  the  coal  dumped  on  the 
wharf.  From  these  it  was  reloaded  into  carts 
and  carried  away.  It  was  this  coal,  handled 
in  this  expensive  way,  that  this  farmer  was  using 
to  pump  the  water  needed  to  irrigate  his  land. 

After  leaving  Palermo  I  went  to  Catania,  at 
the  other  side  of  the  island.  The  railway  which 
climbs  the  mountains  in  crossing  the  island 
took  me  through  a  very  different  country  and 
among  very  different  people  than  those  I  had 
seen  at  Palermo.  It  was  a  wild,  bare,  moun- 
tainous region  through  which  we  passed;  more 
bare,  perhaps,  at  the  time  I  saw  it  than  at  other 
times,  because  the  grain  had  been  harvested 
and  plowing  had  not  begun.  There  were  few 
regular  roads  anywhere.  Now  and  then  the 
train  passed  a  lonely  water-wheel;  now  and  then 
I  saw,  winding  up  a  rocky  footpath,  a  donkey 


136  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

or  pack-mule  carrying  water  to  the  sulphur 
mines  or  provisions  to  some  little  inland  moun- 
tain village. 

Outside  of  these  little  villages,  in  which  the 
farm  labourers  live,  the  country  was  perfectly 
bare.  One  can  ride  for  miles  'through  this 
thickly  populated  country  without  seeing  a 
house  or  a  building  of  any  kind,  outside  of  the 
villages. 

In  Sicily  less  than  lo  per  cent,  of  the  farming 
class  live  in  the  open  country.  This  results 
in  an  enormous  waste  of  time  and  energy.  The 
farm  labourer  has  to  walk  many  miles  to  and 
from  his  labour.  A  large  part  of  the  year  he 
spends  far  away  from  his  home.  During  this 
time  he  camps  out  in  the  field  in  some  of  the 
flimsy  little  straw-thatched  shelters  that  one 
sees  scattered  over  the  country,  or  perhaps  he 
finds  himself  a  nest  in  the  rocks  or  a  hole  in  the 
ground.  During  this  time  he  lives,  so  to  speak, 
on  the  country.  If  he  is  a  herdsman,  he  has  his 
cows'  or  goats'  milk  to  drink.  Otherwise  his 
food  consists  of  a  piece  of  black  bread  and  per- 
haps a  bit  of  soup  of  green  herbs  of  some  kind 
or  other. 

During  my  journey  through  this  mountain 
district,  and  in  the  course  of  a  number  of  visits 
to  the  country  which  I  made  later,  I  had  oppor- 
tunity  to  learn   something  of   the  way   these 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  137 

farming  people  live.  I  have  frequently  seen 
men  who  had  done  a  hard  day's  work  sit  down 
to  a  meal  which  consisted  of  black  bread  and  a 
bit  of  tomato  or  other  raw  vegetable.  In  the 
more  remote  regions  these  peasant  people 
frequently  live  for  days  or  months,  I  learned, 
on  almost  any  sort  of  green  thing  they  find 
in  the  fields,  frequently  eating  it  raw,  just  like 
the  cattle. 

When  they  were  asked  how  it  was  possible 
to  eat  such  stufi",  they  replied  that  it  w^as  good; 
"it  tasted  swxet,"  they  said. 

I  heard,  while  I  was  in  Sicily,  of  the  case  of 
a  woman  who,  after  her  husband  had  been  sent 
to  prison,  supported  herself  from  the  milk  she 
obtained  from  a  herd  of  goats,  which  she  pas- 
tured on  the  steep  slopes  of  the  mountains.  Her 
earnings  amounted  to  not  more  than  12  to  14 
cents  a  day,  and,  as  this  was  not  sufficient  for 
bread  for  herself  and  her  four  children,  she 
picked  up  during  the  day  all  sorts  of  green  stuff 
that  she  found  growing  upon  the  rocks,  and 
carried  it  home  in  her  apron  at  night  to  fill  the 
hungry  mouths  that  were  awaiting  her  return. 
Persons  who  have  had  an  opportunity  to  care- 
fully study  the  condition  of  this  country  say  it 
is  incredible  what  sort  of  things  these  poor  people 
in  the  interior  of  Sicily  will  put  into  their 
stomachs 


138  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

One  of  the  principal  articles  of  diet,  in  certain 
seasons  of  the  year,  is  the  fruit  of  a  cactus  called 
the  Indian  fig,  which  grows  wild  in  all  parts  of 
the  island.  One  sees  it  everywhere,  either  by 
the  roadside,  where  it  is  used  for  hedges,  or 
clinging  to  the  steep  cliffs  on  the  mountainside. 
The  fruit,  which  is  about  the  size  and  shape 
of  a  very  large  plum,  is  contained  in  a  thick, 
leathern  skin,  which  is  stripped  oif  and  fed  to 
the  cattle.  The  fruit  within  is  soft  and  mushy 
and  has  a  rather  sickening,  sweetish  taste, 
which,  however,  is  greatly  relished  by  the  coun- 
try people. 

One  day,  in  passing  through  one  of  the  sub- 
urbs of  Catania,  I  stopped  in  front  of  a  little 
stone  and  stucco  building  which  I  thought  at 
first  was  a  wayside  shrine  or  chapel.  But  it 
turned  out  to  be  a  one-room  house.  This  house 
had  a  piece  of  carpet  hung  as  a  curtain  in  front 
of  the  broad  doorway.  In  front  of  this  curtain 
there  was  a  rude  table  made  of  rough  boards; 
on  this  table  was  piled  a  quantity  of  the  Indian 
figs  I  have  described  and  some  bottles  of  some- 
thing or  other  that  looked  like  what  we  in 
America  call  "pop." 

Two  very  good-looking  young  women  were 
tending  this  little  shop.  I  stopped  and  talked 
with  them  and  bought  some  of  the  cactus  fruit. 
I  found  it  sold  five  pieces  for  a  cent.    They  told 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  139 

me  that  from  the  sale  of  this  fruit  they 
made  about  17  cents  a  day,  and  upon  this 
sum  they  and  their  father,  who  was  an  invalid, 
were  compelled  to  support  themselves.  There 
were  a  few  goats  and  chickens  and  two  pigs 
wandering  about  the  place,  and  I  learned  that 
one  of  the  economies  of  the  household  consisted  in 
feeding  the  pigs  and  goats  upon  the  shells  or 
husks  of  the  Indian  figs  that  were  eaten  and 
thrown  upon  the  ground. 

As  near  as  I  could  learn,  from  all  that  I  heard 
and  read,  the  condition  of  the  agricultural 
population  in  Sicily  has  been  growing  steadily 
worse  for  half  a  century,  at  least. 

Persons  who  have  made  a  special  study  of 
the  physical  condition  of  these  people  declare 
that  this  part  of  the  population  shows  marked 
signs  of  physical  and  mental  deterioration,  due, 
they  say,  to  the  lack  of  sufficient  food.  For 
example,  in  respect  to  stature  and  weight,  the 
Sicilians  are  nearly  2  per  cent,  behind  the 
population  in  northern  Italy.  This  difference 
is  mainly  due  to  the  poor  physical  condition 
of  the  agricultural  classes,  who,  like  the  ag- 
ricultural population  of  the  southern  mainland 
of  Italy,  are  smaller  than  the  population  in  the 
cities. 

In  this  connection,  it  is  stated  that  con- 
siderably less  than  one  third  as  much  meat  is 


I40  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

consumed  per  capita  in  Sicily  as  in  northern 
Italy.  Even  so,  most  of  the  meat  that  is  eaten 
there  is  consumed  in  the  hotels  by  the  foreigners 
who  visit  the  country. 

In  looking  over  the  budgets  of  a  number  of 
the  small  landowners,  whose  position  is  much 
better  than  that  of  the  average  farm  labourer, 
I  found  that  as  much  as  $5  was  spent  for  wine, 
while  the  item  for  meat  was  only  $2  per  year. 
There  are  thousands  of  people  in  Sicily,  I 
learned,  who  almost  never  taste  meat.  The 
studies  which  have  been  made  of  the  subject 
indicate  that  the  whole  population  is  underfed. 

Upon  inquiry  I  found  it  to  be  generally  ad- 
mitted that  the  condition  of  the  population 
was  due  to  the  fact  that  the  larger  part  of 
the  land  was  in  the  hands  of  large  landown- 
ers, who  have  allowed  the  ignorant  and  help- 
less peasants  to  be  crushed  by  a  system  of 
overseers  and  middlemen  as  vicious  and  op- 
pressive as  that  which  existed  in  many  parts 
of  the  Southern  States  during  the  days  of 
slavery. 

This  middleman  is  called  by  Italians  a  gobel- 
lotto,  and  he  seems  to  be  the  only  man  in  Sicily 
who  is  getting  rich  out  of  the  land.  If  a  gobel- 
lotto  has  a  capital  of  ^12,000  he  will  be  able  to 
rent  an  estate  of  2,500  acres  for  a  term  of  six  to 
nine  years.     He  will,  perhaps,  work  only  a  small 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  141 

portion   of   this    land    himself   and    sublet   the 
remainder. 

Part  of  it  will  go  to  a  class  of  farmers  that 
correspond  to  what  are  known  in  the  South  as 
"cash  renters."  These  men  will  have  some 
stock,  and,  perhaps,  a  little  house  and  garden.  In 
a  good  season  they  w411  be  able  to  make  enough 
to  live  upon  and,  perhaps,  save  a  little  money. 
If  the  small  farmer  is  so  unfortunate,  however, 
as  to  have  a  bad  season;  if  he  loses  some  of  his 
cattle  or  is  compelled  to  borrow  money  or  seed, 
the  middleman  who  advances  him  is  pretty 
certain  to  ''clean  him  up,"  as  our  farmers  say, 
at  the  end  of  the  season.  In  that  case,  he  falls 
into  the  larger  and  more  unfortunate  class 
beneath  him,  which  corresponds  to  what  we  call 
in  the  Southern  States  the  ''share  cropper." 
This  man,  corresponding  to  the  share  cropper, 
is  supposed  to  work  his  portion  of  land  on  half- 
shares,  but  if,  as  frequently  happens,  he  has 
been  compelled  to  apply  to  the  landlord  during 
the  season  for  a  loan,  it  goes  hard  with  him 
on  the  day  of  settlement.  For  example,  this 
is  the  way,  according  to  a  description  that  I 
received,  the  crop  is  divided  between  the  land- 
lord and  his  tenants:  After  the  wheat  has  been 
cut  and  thrashed  —  thrashed  not  with  a  machine, 
nor  yet  perhaps  with  flails,  but  with  oxen 
treading    the    sheaves    on    a    dirt    floor  —  the 


142  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

gobellotto  subtracts  from  the  returns  of  the 
harvest  double,  perhaps  triple,  measure  of  the 
seed  he  had  advanced.  After  that,  according 
to  the  local  custom,  he  takes  a  certain  portion 
for  the  cost  of  guarding  the  field  while  the  grain 
is  ripening,  since  no  man's  field  is  safe  from 
thieves  in  Sicily. 

Then  he  takes  another  portion  for  the  saints, 
something  more  for  the  use  of  the  threshing  floor 
and  the  storehouse  and  for  anything  else  that 
occurs  to  him.  Naturally  he  takes  a  certain 
portion  for  his  other  loans,  if  there  have 
been  any,  and  for  interest.  Then,  finally,  if 
there  is  nothing  further  to  be  subtracted,  he 
divides  the  rest  and  gives  the  farmer  his  half. 

As  a  result  the  poor  man  who,  as  some  one 
has  said,  "has  watered  the  soil  with  his  sweat," 
who  has  perhaps  not  slept  more  than  two  hours 
a  night  during  the  harvest  time,  and  that,  too, 
in  the  open  field,  is  happy  if  he  receives  as  much 
as  a  third  or  a  quarter  of  the  grain  he  has 
harvested. 

In  the  end  the  share  cropper  smks,  perhaps, 
still  lower  into  the  ranks  of  day  labourer  and 
becomes  a  wanderer  over  the  earth,  unless, 
before  he  reaches  this  point,  he  has  not  sold 
what  little  property  he  had  and  gone  to  America. 

I  remember  meeting  one  of  these  outcasts 
and  wornout  labourers,  who  had  become  a  com- 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  143 

mon  beggar,  tramping  along  the  road  toward 
Catania.  He  carried,  swung  across  his  back 
in  a  dirty  cloth  of  some  indescribable  colour, 
a  heavy  pack.  It  contained,  perhaps,  some 
remnants  of  his  earthly  goods,  and  as  he 
stopped  to  ask  for  a  penny  to  help  him  on  his 
way,  I  had  a  chance  to  look  in  his  face  and 
found  that  he  was  not  the  usual  sort.  He  did 
not  have  the  whine  of  the  sturdy  beggars  I 
had  been  accustomed  to  meet,  particularly  in 
England.  He  w^as  haggard  and  worn;  hardship 
and  hunger  had  humbled  him,  and  there  was  a 
beaten  look  in  his  eyes,  but  suffering  seemed  to 
have  lent  a  sort  of  nobility  to  the  old  man's 
face. 

I  stopped  and  talked  with  him  and  managed 
to  get  from  him  some  account  of  his  life.  He 
had  been  all  his  life  a  farm  labourer;  he  could 
neither  read  nor  write,  but  looked  intelligent. 
He  had  never  married  and  was  without  kith  or 
kin.  Three  years  before  he  had  gotten  into 
such  a  condition  of  health,  he  said,  that  they 
wouldn't  let  him  work  on  the  farm  any  more, 
and  since  that  time  he  had  been  wandering 
about  the  country,  begging,  and  living  for  the 
most  part  upon  the  charity  of  people  who  were 
almost  as  poor  as  he. 

I  asked  him  where  he  was  going.  He  said 
he  had  heard  that  in  Catania  an  old  man  could 


144  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

get  a  chance  to  sweep  the  streets,  and  he  was 
trying  to  reach  there  before  nightfall. 

Several  hours  later,  in  returning  from  the 
country,  I  turned  from  the  highway  to  visit 
the  poorer  districts  of  the  city.  As  I  turned 
into  one  of  the  streets  which  are  lined  with 
grimy  little  hovels  made  of  blocks  hewn  from 
the  great  black  stream  of  lava  which  Mt.  ^tna 
had  poured  over  that  part  of  the  city  three 
hundred  and  fifty  years  before,  I  saw  the  same 
old  man  lying  in  the  gutter,  with  his  head  rest- 
ing on  his  bundle,  w^here  he  had  sunken  down  or 
fallen. 

I  have  described  at  some  length  the  condition 
of  the  farm  labourers  in  Italy  because  it  seems 
to  me  that  it  is  important  that  those  who  are 
inclined  to  be  discouraged  about  the  Negro 
in  the  South  should  know  that  his  case  is  by 
no  means  as  hopeless  as  that  of  some  others. 
The  Negro  is  not  the  man  farthest  down.  The 
condition  of  the  coloured  farmer  in  the  most 
backward  parts  of  the  Southern  States  in 
America,  even  where  he  has  the  least  education 
and  the  least  encouragement,  is  incomparably 
better  than  the  condition  and  opportunities  of 
the  agricultural  population  in  Sicily. 

The  Negro  farmer  sometimes  thinks  he  is 
badly  treated  in  the  South.  Not  infrequently 
he  has  to  pay  high  rates  of  interest  upon  his 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  145 

"advances"  and  sometimes,  on  account  of  his 
ignorance,  he  Is  not  fairly  treated  in  his  yearly- 
settlements.  But  there  is  this  great  difference 
between  the  Negro  farmer  in  the  South  and  the 
Italian  farmer  in  Sicily:  In  Sicily  a  few  capi- 
talists and  descendants  of  the  old  feudal  lords 
own  practically  all  the  soil  and,  under  the  crude 
and  expensive  system  of  agriculture  which  they 
employ,  there  is  not  enough  land  to  employ  the 
surplus  population.  The  result  is  the  farm 
labourers  are  competing  for  the  privilege  of 
working  on  the  land.  As  agriculture  goes  down 
and  the  land  produces  less,  the  population  in- 
creases and  the  rents  go  up.  Thus  between 
the  upper  and  the  nether  millstone  the  farmer 
is  crushed. 

In  the  South  we  have  just  the  contrary  sit- 
uation. We  have  land  crying  for  the  hand  to 
till  it;  we  have  the  landowners  seeking  labour 
and  fairly  begging  for  tenants  to  work  their 
lands. 

If  a  Negro  tenant  does  not  like  the  way  he 
is  treated  he  can  go  to  the  neighbouring  farm; 
he  can  go  to  the  mines  or  to  the  public  works, 
where  his  labour  Is  in  demand.  But  the  only 
way  the  poor  Italian  can  get  free  is  by  going  to 
America,  and  that  is  why  thousands  sail  from 
Palermo  every  year  for  this  country.  In  cer- 
tain places  in  Sicily,  in  the  three  years  Includ- 


146  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

ing  1905  and  1907,  more  than  four  persons  in 
every  hundred  of  the  population  left  Sicily  for 
America. 

One  thing  that  keeps  the  Sicilian  down  is 
the  pride  with  which  he  remembers  his .  past 
and  the  obstinacy  with  which  he  clings  to  his 
ancient  customs  and  ways  of  doing  things.  It 
is  said  by  certain  persons,  as  an  excuse  for 
backward  conditions  of  the  country,  that  even 
if  the  landlords  did  attempt  to  introduce  new 
machinery  and  modern  methods  of  cultivation 
the  people  would  rebel  against  any  innovation. 
They  are  stuck  so  fast  in  their  old  traditional 
ways  of  doing  things  that  they  refuse  to  change. 

I  have  sometimes  said  that  there  was  a  cer- 
tain advantage  in  belonging  to  a  new  race  that 
was  not  burdened  with  traditions  and  a  past  — 
to  a  race,  in  other  words,  that  is  looking  for- 
ward instead  of  backward,  and  is  more  inter- 
ested in  the  future  than  in  the  past.  The  Negro 
farmer  certainly  has  this  advantage  over  the 
Italian  peasant. 

If  you  ask  a  Sicilian  workman  why  he  does 
something  in  a  certain  way,  he  invariably  re- 
plies: "We  have  always  done  that  way,"  and 
that  is  enough  for  him.  The  Sicilian  never 
forgets  the  past  until  he  leaves  Sicily,  and  fre- 
quently not  even  then. 

The  result  is  that  while  the  Negro  in  Africa 


THE  LABOURER  IN  SICILY  147 

is  learning,  as  I  saw  from  a  recent  report  of  the 
German  Government,  to  plow  by  steam,  the 
Sicilian  farmer,  clinging  proudly  to  his  ancient 
customs  and  methods,  is  still  using  the  same 
plow  that  was  used  by  the  Greeks  in  the  days  of 
Homer,  and  he  is  threshing  his  grain  as  people 
did  in  the  time  of  Abraham. 


CHAPTER  IX 

WOMEN    AND    THE    WINE    HARVEST    IN    SICILY 

IT  WAS  late  in  September  when  I  reached 
Catania,  on  the  eastern  side  of  Sicily.  The 
city  lies  at  the  foot  of  Mt.  JEtna,  on  the 
edge  of  the  sea.  Above  it  looms  the  vast  bulk 
of  the  volcano,  its  slopes  girdled  with  gardens 
and  vineyards  that  mount,  one  terrace  above 
the  other,  until  they  lose  themselves  in  the 
clouds.  A  wide  and  fertile  valley  below  the 
city  to  the  south,  through  which  the  railway 
descends  from  the  mountain  to  the  sea,  seemed, 
as  did  Mt.  ^Etna  itself,  like  one  vast  vineyard. 

This  was  the  more  noticeable  and  interesting 
because,  at  the  time  I  reached  there,  the  harvest 
was  in  progress;  the  vineyards  were  dotted  with 
women  carrying  baskets;  the  wine  presses  were 
busy,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  the  fumes  of 
the  fermenting  grape  juice. 

Although  it  was  Sunday  morning  and  the 
bells  in  a  hundred  churches  were  calling  the 
people  to  prayers,  there  was  very  little  of  the 
Sunday  quiet  I  had  somehow  expected  to  meet. 
Most  of  the  shops  were  open;  in  every  part  of 

148 


THE  WINE  HARVEST  IN  SICILY        149 

the  city  men  were  sitting  in  their  doorways  or 
on  the  pavement  in  front  of  their  little  cell- 
like houses,  busily  at  w^ork  at  their  accustomed 
crafts.  Outside  the  southern  gate  of  the  city 
a  thrifty  merchant  had  set  up  a  hasty  wine 
shop,  in  order  to  satisfy  the  thirst  of  the  crowds 
of  people  w^ho  were  passing  in  and  out  of  the 
city  and  also,  perhaps,  to  escape  the  tax  which 
the  city  imposes  upon  all  sorts  of  provisions  that 
enter  the  city  from  the  surrounding  country. 
Country  wine  was  selling  here  at  a  few  pennies 
a  litre  —  I  have  forgotten  the  exact  sum  —  and 
crowds  of  people  from  the  city  celebrated,  some- 
thing after  the  ancient  custom  of  the  country, 
I  suppose,  the  annual  harvest  of  the  grapes. 

Out  of  the  southern  gate  of  the  city,  which 
leads  into  the  fertile  vine-clad  plain,  a  dusty 
and  perspiring  procession — little  two-wheeled 
carts,  beautifully  carved  and  decorated,  carrying 
great  casks  of  grape  juice,  little  donkeys  with 
a  pigskin  filled  with  wine  on  either  flank  and  a 
driver  trotting  along  beside  them  —  pushed  and 
crowded  its  way  into  the  city.  At  the  same 
time  a  steady  stream  of  peasants  on  foot,  or  city 
people  in  carriages,  mingHng  with  the  carts  and 
pack-animals,  poured  out  of  the  gate  along  the 
dusty  highway,  dividing  and  dwindling,  until 
the  stream  lost  itself  among  the  cactus  hedges 
that  mark  the  winding  country  roads. 


I50  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

It  was  to  me  a  strange  and  interesting  sight 
and,  not  only  on  this  particular  Sunday  but 
afterward,  almost  every  day  I  was  in  the  city, 
in  fact,  I  spent  some  time  studying  this  pro- 
cession, noting  the  different  figures  and  the 
different  types  of  which  it  was  made  up.  It 
was  at  this  gate  that  I  observed  one  day  a 
peasant  woman  haggling  with  the  customs 
officer  over  the  tax  she  was  to  pay  for  the  priv- 
ilege of  bringing  her  produce  to  town.  She 
was  barefoot  and  travel-stained  and  had  evi- 
dently come  some  distance,  carrying  her  little 
stock  of  fruit  and  vegetables  in  a  sack  slung 
across  her  back.  It  seemed,  however,  that  she 
had  hidden,  in  the  bottom  of  the  sack,  a  few 
pounds  of  nuts,  covering  them  over  with  fruit 
and  vegetables.  Something  in  her  manner,  I 
suppose,  betrayed  her,  for  the  customs  officer 
insisted  on  thrusting  his  hand  down  to  the  very 
bottom  of  the  little  sack  and  brought  up  tri- 
umphantly, at  last,  a  little  handful  of  the  smug- 
gled nuts.  I  could  not  understand  what  the 
woman  said,  but  I  could  not  mistake  the  plead- 
ing expression  with  which  she  begged  the  officer 
to  let  her  and  her  little  produce  through  be- 
cause, as  she  indicated,  showing  him  her  empty 
palms,  she  did  not  have  money  enough  to  pay 
all  that  he  demanded. 

I  had  heard  and  read  a  great  deal  about  the 


THE  WINE  HARVEST  IN  SICILY        151 

hardships  and  cruelties  of  the  tariff  in  America, 
but  I  confess  that  the  best  argument  for  free 
trade  that  I  ever  met  was  that  offered  by  the 
spectacle  of  this  poor  woman,  with  her  little 
store  of  fruit  and  nuts,  trying  to  get  to  market 
with  her  goods. 

Not  far  outside  the  city  the  highway  runs 
close  beside  a  cemetery.  From  the  road  one 
can  see  the  elegant  and  imposing  monuments 
that  have  been  erected  to  mark  the  final  resting 
places  of  the  wealthy  and  distinguished  families 
of  the  city.  The  road  to  this  cemetery  passes 
through  a  marble  archway  which  is  closed,  as  I 
remember,  by  massive  iron  gates.  Standing  by 
this  gate,  I  noticed  one  day  a  young  peasant 
woman  silently  weeping.  She  stood  there  for 
a  long  time,  looking  out  across  the  fields  as  if 
she  were  waiting  for  some  one  who  did  not  come, 
while  the  tears  streamed  down  her  face.  She 
seemed  so  helpless  and  hopeless  that  I  asked 
the  guide  who  was  with  me  to  go  across  the 
street  and  find  out  what  her  trouble  was.  I 
thought  there  might  perhaps  be  something  that 
we  could  do  for  her. 

The  guide,  with  the  natural  tact  and  polite- 
ness of  his  race,  approached  the  woman  and 
inquired  the  cause  of  her  grief.  She  did  not 
move  or  change  expression,  but,  while  the  tears 
still  streamed  down  her  face,  pointed  to  a  pair 


152  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

of  high-heeled  slippers  which  she  had  taken  off 
and  placed  beside  her  on  the  ground. 

''They  hurt  my  feet,"  she  said,  and  then 
smiled  a  little,  for  she,  too,  saw  that  there  was  a 
certain  element  of  humour  in  the  situation.  I 
looked  at  her  feet  and  then  at  her  shoes  and 
made  up  my  mind  that  I  could  not  help  her. 

Farther  on  we  passed  some  of  the  large  es- 
tates which  are  owned  generally  by  some  of  the 
wealthy  landed  proprietors  in  the  city.  The 
corresponding  region  outside  of  Palermo  is  oc- 
cupied by  orange  and  lemon  groves,  but  around 
Catania  all  the  large  estates,  apparently,  are 
given  up  to.  the  culture  of  the  vine. 

A  large  vineyard  in  the  autumn  or  the  time 
of  the  grape  harvest  presents  one  of  the  most 
interesting  sights  I  have  ever  seen.  The  grapes, 
in  thick,  tempting  clusters,  hang  so  heavy  on 
the  low  vines  that  it  seems  they  must  fall  to 
the  ground  of  their  own  weight.  Meanwhile, 
troops  of  barefooted  girls,  with  deep  baskets, 
rapidly  strip  the  vines  of  their  fruit,  piling  the 
clusters  in  baskets.  When  all  the  baskets  are 
full,  they  lift  them  to  their  heads  or  shoulders 
and,  forming  in  line,  march  slowly  in  a  sort  of 
festal  procession  in  the  direction  of  the  wine 
press. 

At  the  plantation  which  I  visited  thewinehouse 
was   a   large,  rough  building,  set  deep   in   the 


THE  WINE  HARVEST  IN  SICILY        153 

ground,  so  that  one  was  compelled  to  descend 
a  few  steps  to  reach  the  ground  floor.  The 
building  was  divided  so  that  one  room  con- 
tained the  huge  casks  in  which  the  wine  was 
stored  in  order  to  get  with  age  that  delicate 
flavour  that  gives  it  its  quality,  while  in  the  other 
the  work  of  pressing  the  grapes  was  carried  on. 

There  was  at  one  side  of  the  room  a  press 
with  a  great  twisted  arm  of  a  tree  for  a  lever, 
but  this  was  only  used,  I  learned,  for  squeezing 
dry  the  refuse,  from  which  a  poorer  and  cheaper 
sort  of  wine  was  made.  Directly  in  front  as  one 
entered  the  building,  and  high  up  under  the 
roof,  there  was  a  huge,  round,  shallow  tub-like 
vat.  In  this  vat  four  or  five  men,  with  their 
trousers  rolled  up  above  their  knees  and  their 
shoes  and  stockings  on,  were  trotting  about  in 
a  circle,  and,  singing  as  they  went,  tramping 
the  grapes  under  their  feet. 

Through  an  open  space  or  door  at  the  back 
I  caught  a  glimpse  now  and  then  of  the  pro- 
cession of  girls  and  men  as  they  mounted  the 
little  stairs  at  the  back  of  the  wine  house  to 
pour  fresh  grapes  into  the  press.  In  the  light 
that  came  in  through  this  opening  the  figures 
of  the  men  trampling  the  grapes,  their  bare 
legs  stained  with  wine,  stood  out  clear  and  dis- 
tinct. At  the  same  time  the  fumes  w^hich  arose 
from  the  grapes  filled  the  wine  house  so  that  the 


154  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

air,  It  almost  seemed,  was  red  with  their  odour. 
It  is  said  that  men  who  work  all  day  in  the  wine 
press  not  infrequently  become  intoxicated  from 
merely  breathing  the  air  saturated  with  this  fer- 
menting grape  juice. 

I  imagine  that  the  harvest  season  has  always 
been,  in  every  land  and  in  every  time,  a  period 
of  rejoicing  and  gladness.  I  remember  it  was 
so  among  the  slaves  on  the  plantation  when  I 
was  a  boy.  As  I  watched  these  men  and  lis- 
tened to  the  quaint  and  melancholy  little  songs 
they  sang,  while  the  red  wine  gushed  out  from 
under  their  trampling  feet,  I  was  reminded  of 
the  corn-huskings  among  the  slaves,  and  of  the 
songs  the  slaves  sang  at  those  times. 

I  was  reminded  of  it  the  more  as  I  noticed 
the  way  in  which  the  leader  in  the  singing  bowed 
his  head  and  pressed  his  temples,  just  as  I  have 
seen  it  done  before  by  the  one  who  led  the  sing- 
ing at  the  corn-husking.  I  recall  that,  as  a  boy, 
the  way  this  leader  or  chorister  bowed  his 
head  and  pressed  his  hands  against  his  tem- 
ples made  a  deep  impression.  Perhaps  he 
was  merely  trying  in  this  way  to  remember  the 
words,  but  it  seemed  as  if  he  was  listening  to 
music  that  welled  up  inside  of  him,  seeking  in 
this  way,  not  merely  to  recall  the  words,  but 
catch  the  inspiration  of  the  song.  Sometimes, 
after  he  had  seemed  to  listen  this  way  for  a  few 


THE  WINE  HARVEST  IN  SICILY        155 

minutes,  he  would  suddenly  fling  back  his  head 
and  burst  into  a  wilder  and  more  thrilling 
strain. 

All  this  was  strangely  interesting  and  even 
thrilling  to  me,  the  more  so,  perhaps,  because 
it  seemed  somehow  as  if  I  had  seen  or  known 
all  this  somewhere  before.  Nevertheless,  after 
watching  these  men,  stained  with  wine  and 
sweat,  crushing  the  grapes  under  shoed  and 
stockinged  feet,  I  had  even  less  desire  to  drink 
wine  than  ever  before.  It  perhaps  would  not 
have  been  so  bad  if  the  men  had  not  worn  their 
socks. 

One  thing  that  impressed  me  in  all  that  I  saw 
was  the  secondary  and  almost  menial  part  the 
women  took  in  the  work.  They  worked  directly 
under  an  overseer  who  directed  all  their  move- 
ments —  directed  them,  apparently,  with  a 
sharp  switch  which  he  carried  in  his  hand. 
There  was  no  laughter  or  singing  and  apparently 
little  freedom  among  the  women,  who  moved 
slowly,  silently,  with  the  weary  and  monotonous 
precision  in  their  work  I  have  frequently  noted 
in  gang  labour.  They  had  little  if  any  share 
in  the  kind  of  pleasurable  excitement  which 
helped  to  lighten  the  work  of  the  men. 

Once  or  twice  every  year,  at  the  time  of  the 
grape  and  olive  harvests,  the  girls  and  women 
come   down   from   their    mountain   villages    to 


156  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

share  with  the  men  in  the  work  of  the  fields. 
For  these  two  brief  periods,  as  I  understand  it, 
the  women  of  each  one  of  these  little  country 
villages  will  be  organized  into  a  gang,  just  as  is 
true  of  the  gangs  of  wandering  harvesters  in 
Austria  and  Hungary.  I  had  seen,  on  the  Sun- 
day I  arrived  in  Catania,  crowds  of  these  wo- 
men trooping,  arm  in  arm,  through  the  streets 
of  the  city.  A  party  of  them  had,  in  fact,  en- 
camped on  the  pavement  in  the  little  open 
square  at  the  southern  gate  of  the  city.  They 
were  there  nearly  all  day  and,  I  suppose,  all 
night,  also.  I  was  interested  to  observe  the 
patience  with  which  they  sat  for  hours  on  the 
curb  or  steps,  with  their  heads  on  their  bundles, 
waiting  until  the  negotiations  for  hiring  them 
were  finished. 

This  brief  period  of  the  harvest  time  is  almost 
the  only  opportunity  that  the  majority  of  these 
country  women  have  to  get  acquainted  with 
the  outside  world.  For  the  remainder  of  the 
year,  it  seems,  they  are  rarely  allowed  to  ven- 
ture beyond  the  limits  of  the  street  or  village 
in  which  they  live. 

In  the  course  of  my  journey  across  the  is- 
land I  had  seen,  high  up  in  the  mountains,  some 
of  these  inaccessible  little  nests  from  which, 
perhaps,  these  girls  had  come.  In  one  or  two 
cases,  and  especially  at  the  time  I  visited  the 


THE  WINE  HARVEST  IN  SICILY        157 

sulphur  mines,  I  had  an  opportunity  to  see 
something  of  the  Hfe  of  these  mountain  villages. 
Now  that  I  have  come  to  speak  especially  of 
the  women  of  the  labouring  and  agricultural 
classes,  I  may  as  well  tell  here  what  I  saw  and 
learned  of  the  way  they  live  in  their  homes. 

Such  a  village  as  I  have  referred  to  consists, 
for  the  most  part,  of  rows  of  low,  one-story 
stone  buildings,  ranged  along  a  street  that  is 
dirty  beyond  description.  The  wells  are  fre- 
quently built  without  mortar  or  plaster,  and 
roofed  sometimes  with  wood,  but  more  fre- 
quently w^th  tiles.  In  a  corner  there  is  a  stone 
hearth  upon  which  the  cooking  is  done,  when 
there  is  anything  to  cook.  As  there  is  no 
chimney,  the  smoke  filters  out  through  the 
roofing. 

I  remember  well  a  picture  I  saw  in  passing 
one  such  house.  In  front  of  the  house  a  woman 
was  standing  holding  in  her  arms  a  perfectly 
naked  child.  Another  child,  with  nothing  on 
but  a  shirt,  was  standing  beside  her  holding  her 
skirt.  Through  the  open  door  I  could  see  the 
whole  of  the  single  room  in  which  this  family 
lived.  Back  of  the  living-room  and  connected 
with  it  was  a  stall  for  the  cattle.  This  was 
typical  of  many  other  homes  that  I  saw. 

During  the  day  the  women,  the  children,  the 
pigs,  and  the  chickens  spend  most  of  their  time  in 


158  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

the  dirty,  crowded  street.  As  a  rule  the  men, 
unless  they  are  engaged  in  some  sort  of  handi- 
craft, are  away  in  the  fields  at  work.  In  many 
cases  they  do  not  come  home  once  a  month. 

In  my  journeys  through  these  villages  and 
the  poor  streets  of  the  larger  cities  one  question 
constantly  arose  in  my  mind  for  which  I  was 
never  able  to  find  an  answer.  It  was  this: 
What  becomes  of  these  people,  together  with 
their  pigs,  goats,  chickens,  and  other  animals, 
at  night  .^  How  does  the  interior  of  these  homes 
look  after  sundown? 

I  have  gone  through  some  of  the  poorer 
streets  of  Catania  at  night,  but  invariably  found 
them  in  almost  total  darkness.  I  could  hear 
the  people  talking  as  they  sat  in  their  doorways, 
but  I  could  not  see  them.  In  fact,  I  could  not 
see  anything  but  the  dim  outlines  of  the  build- 
ings, because  nowhere,  apparently,  were  there 
any  lights. 

A  German  author,  Mr.  S.  Wermert,  who  has 
studied  conditions  closely  in  Sicily,  and  has 
written  a  great  book  on  the  social  and  economic 
conditions  of  the  people,  says,  in  regard  to  the 
way  the  people  live  in  the  little  villages: 

"In  the  south,  as  is  well  known,  people  live  for  the  most  part 
out  of  doors.  Every  one  sits  in  the  street  before  the  house  door; 
there  the  craftsman  works  at  his  trade;  there  the  mother  of  the 
family  carries  on  her  domestic  labours.     At  evening,  however, 


THE  WINE  HARVEST  IN  SICILY        159 

all  crowd  Into  the  cave,  parents  and  children,  the  mule  or  the 
donkey.  The  fattening  pig,  which,  decorated  with  a  collar,  has 
been  tied  during  the  day  in  front  of  the  house,  where,  with  all 
the  affection  of  a  dog,  it  has  glided  about  among  the  children, 
must  also  find  a  place  in  the  house.  The  cock  and  hens  betake 
themselves  at  sunset  into  this  same  space,  in  which  the  air  Is 
thick  with  smoke,  because  there  is  no  chimney  to  the  house. 
All  breathe  this  air.  One  can  imagine  what  a  fearful  atmosphere 
pervades  the  place.  Every  necessity  of  physical  cleanliness 
and  moral  decency  Is  lacking.  In  the  corner  there  Is  frequently 
only  one  bunk,  upon  which  the  entire  family  sleeps,  and  for  the 
most  part  it  consists  of  nothing  more  than  a  heap  of  straw.  In 
the  fierce  heat  of  the  summer  one  naturally  sleeps  without  a 
cover;  In  winter  every  one  seeks  to  protect  himself  under  the 
covers.  Even  when  there  are  separate  sleeping  places  all  the 
most  Intimate  secrets  of  family  life  become  known  to  the  chil- 
dren at  an  early  age.  Brothers  and  sisters  almost  always  sleep 
In  the  same  bed.  Frequently  a  girl  sleeps  at  the  feet 
of  her  parents.  The  stupidity  and  coarseness  of  such  a 
family  existence  Is  beyond  description.  There  Is  naturally  no 
such  thing  as  a  serious  conception  of  morality  among  a  people 
that  for  generations  has  grown  up  without  education.  For 
that  reason,  it  frequently  happens  that  the  most  unspeakable 
crimes  are  committed.  It  is,  therefore,  frequently  difficult 
to  determine  with  exactness  the  parentage  of  the  children  born 
Into  the  family.  The  saying  of  the  Romans,  that  'paternity  is 
always  uncertain,'  holds  good  here.  In  fact,  it  is  quite  possible 
that  this  legal  conception  owes  Its  origin  to  observations  in 
regard  to  the  condition  of  the  rural  population  of  that  period' 
It  is,  however,  probable  that  in  the  country  districts  of  Sicily 
conditions  have  changed  very  little  since  Roman  times." 

From  all  that  I  can  learn,  the  filthy  promis- 
cuity of  these  crowded  houses  and  dirty  streets 
have  made  the  Sicilian  rural  villages  breeding 
places  of  vices  and  crimes  of  a  kind  of  which 


i6o  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

the  rural  Negro  population  in  the  United  States, 
for  example,  probably  never  heard.  There  are 
some  things,  in  connection  with  this  ancient 
civilization,  concerning  which  it  is  better  the 
Negro  should  not  know,  because  the  knowledge 
of  them  means  moral  and  physical  degeneration, 
and  at  the  present  time,  whatever  else  may  be 
said  about  the  condition  of  the  Negro,  he  is  not, 
in  the  rural  districts  at  least,  a  degenerate. 
Even  in  those  parts  of  the  Southern  States 
where  he  has  been  least  touched  by  civilization, 
the  Negro  seems  to  me  to  be  incomparably 
better  off  in  his  family  life  than  is  true  of  the 
agricultural  classes  in  Sicily. 

The  Negro  is  better  off  in  his  family,  in  the 
first  place,  because,  even  when  his  home  is  little 
more  than  a  primitive  one-room  cabin,  he  is  at 
least  living  in  the  open  country  in  contact  with 
the  pure  air  and  freedom  of  the  woods,  and 
not  in  the  crowded  village  where  the  air  and 
the  soil  have  for  centuries  been  polluted  with 
the  accumulated  refuse  and  offscourings  of  a 
crowded  and  slatternly  population. 

In  the  matter  of  his  religious  life,  in  spite  of 
all  that  has  been  said  in  the  past  about  the 
ignorance  and  even  immorality  of  certain  of  the 
rural  Negro  preachers,  I  am  convinced,  from 
what  I  learned  while  I  was  in  Sicily,  that  the 
Negro  has  a  purer  type  of  religion  and  a  better 


THE  WINE  HARVEST  IN  SICILY         i6i 

and  more  earnest  class  of  ministers  than  is  true 
of  the  masses  of  these  Sicilian  people,  particu- 
larly in  the  country  districts. 

In  this  connection,  it  should  not  be  forgotten 
also  that  the  Negro  is  what  he  is  because  he  has 
never  had  a  chance  to  learn  anything  better. 
He  is  going  forward.  The  people  of  Sicily, 
who  have  been  Christians  almost  since  the 
time  that  the  Apostle  Paul  landed  in  Syracuse, 
have,  on  the  other  hand,  gone  backward.  All 
kinds  of  barbarous  superstitions  have  grown  up 
in  connection  with  their  religious  life  and  have 
crowded  out,  to  a  large  extent,  the  better  ele- 
ments. 

While  the  condition  of  Negro  education  in 
the  Southern  States  is  by  no  means  perfect, 
the  Negro,  and  particularly  the  Negro  woman, 
has  some  advantages  which  are  so  far  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  peasant  girl  in  Sicily  that  she 
has  never  dreamed  of  possessing  them.  For 
example,  every  Negro  girl  in  America  has  the 
same  opportunities  for  education  that  are  given 
to  Negro  boys.  She  may  enter  the  industrial 
school,  or  she  may,  if  she  choose,  as  she  fre- 
quently does,  go  to  college.  All  the  trades 
and  the  professions  are  open  to  her.  One  of  the 
first  Negro  doctors  in  Alabama  was  a  woman. 
Every  year  there  are  hundreds  and,  perhaps, 
thousands  of  Negro  girls  who  go  up  from  the 


i62  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

farming  districts  of  the  Southern  States  to 
attend  these  higher  schools,  where  they  have  an 
opportunity  to  come  under  the  influence  of 
some  of  the  best  and  most  cultivated  white 
people  in  the  United  States.  In  the  country 
villages,  I  venture  to  say,  not  one  girl  in  a 
hundred  ever  learns  so  much  as  to  read  and 
write. 

I  was  much  impressed,  as  I  went  about  in 
Sicily,  with  the  substantial  character  of  the 
buildings  and  improvements,  such  as  they  were. 
Everything  is  of  stone.  Even  the  most  mis- 
erable house  is  built  as  if  it  were  expected  to 
last  for  centuries,  and  an  incredible  amount  of 
labour  has  been  spent  everywhere  throughout 
the  country  in  erecting  stone  walls. 

One  reason  for  this  is  that  there  is  almost  no 
wood  to  be  had  for  building.  Everything  is 
necessarily  built  of  stone  and  tiles.  Another 
reason,  I  suspect,  why  Sicilian  people  build 
permanently  is  because  they  never  expect  any 
change  in  their  condition.  If  one  asks  them 
why  they  have  built  their  villages  on  the  most 
inconvenient  and  inaccessible  places,  they  do 
not  know.  They  know  only  that  these  towns 
have  always  been  there  and  they  haven't  the 
least  idea  but  what  they  will  remain  always 
where  they  are.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  in  order 
to  find  an  explanation  for  the  location  of  these 


THE  WINE  HARVEST  IN  SICILY        163 

towns,  students,  I  learned,  have  had  to  go  back 
several  centuries  before  Christ  to  the  time  when 
the  Greeks  and  the  Phoenicians  were  contending 
for  the  possession  of  the  island.  At  that  time 
the  original  population  took  refuge  in  these 
mountain  fastnesses,  and  through  all  the  changes 
since,  these  towns,  with,  perhaps,  some  remnants 
of  the  race  that  originally  inhabited  the  island, 
have  remained. 

Everywhere  in  Sicily  one  is  confronted  with 
the  fact  that  he  is  among  a  people  that  is  living 
among  the  ruins  and  remains  of  an  ancient 
civilization.  For  example,  in  seeking  to  under- 
stand the  difference  in  the  position  of  women 
in  Sicily  from  that  of  other  parts  of  Europe  I 
learned  that  one  had  to  go  back  to  the  Greeks 
and  the  Saracens,  among  whom  women  held 
a  much  lower  position  and  were  much  less  free 
than  among  the  peoples  of  Europe.  Not  only 
that,  but  I  met  persons  who  professed  to  be  able 
to  distinguish  among  the  women  Greek  and 
Saracen  types.  I  remember  having  my  atten- 
tion called  at  one  time  to  a  group  of  women, 
wearing  very  black  shawls  over  their  heads,  who 
seemed  more  shrinking  and  less  free  in  their 
actions  than  other  women  I  had  seen  in  Sicily. 
I  was  informed  that  these  women  were  of  the 
Saracen  type  and  that  the  habit  of  wearing 
these  dark  shawls  over  their  heads  and  holding 


i64  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

them  tight  under  their  chins  was  a  custom  that 
had  come  from  the  Arabs.  The  shawls,  I  sup- 
pose, took  the  place  in  a  sort  of  way  of  the  veils 
worn  by  Oriental  women. 

Now  all  these  ancient  customs  and  habits, 
and  all  the  quaint  superstitions  with  which 
life  among  the  ignorant  classes  is  overgrown, 
have,  I  suppose,  the  same  kind  of  interest  and 
fascination  as  some  of  the  ancient  buildings. 
But  very  few  people  realize,  I  am  convinced,  to 
what  degree  these  ancient  customs  weigh  upon 
the  people,  especially  the  women,  and  hinder 
their  progress. 

In  the  midst  of  these  conditions  the  Sicilian 
women,  who  are  looked  upon  by  the  men 
as  inferior  creatures  and  guarded  by  them 
as  a  species  of  property,  live  like  prisoners 
in  their  own  villages.  Bound  fast,  on  the 
one  hand,  by  age-long  customs,  and  on  the 
other  surrounded  by  a  wall  of  ignorance 
which  shuts  out  from  them  all  knowledge  of 
the  outer  world,  they  live  in  a  sort  of  mental 
and  moral  slavery  under  the  control  of  their 
husbands  and  of  the  ignorant,  and  possibly 
vicious,  village  priests. 

For  this  reason,  the  journey  to  America  is 
for  the  woman  of  Sicily  a  real  emancipation. 
In  fact,  I  do  not  know  of  any  more  important 
work  that  is  going  on  for  the  emancipation  of 


THE  WINE  HARVEST  IN  SICILY        i6^ 


women  anywhere  than  that  which  is  being  done, 
directly  and  indirectly,  through  the  emigration 
from  Sicily  and  Italy  to  the  United  States,  in 
bringing  liberty  of  thought  to  the  women  of 
Southern  Italy. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  CHURCH,  THE  PEOPLE,  AND  THE  MAFIA 

ONE  of  the  interesting  sights  of  Catania, 
Sicily,  as  of  nearly  every  other  city  I 
visited  in  Europe,  is  the  market-place. 
I  confess  that  I  have  a  fondness  for  visiting 
markets.  I  like  to  wander  through  the  stalls, 
with  their  quantities  of  fruit,  vegetables,  meat 
and  bread,  all  the  common,  wholesome  and 
necessary  things  of  life,  piled  and  ranged  in 
bountiful  profusion. 

I  like  to  watch  the  crowds  of  people  com- 
ing and  going,  buying  and  selling,  dickering 
and  chaffering.  A  market,  particularly  an  old- 
fashioned  market,  such  as  one  may  see  almost 
anywhere  in  Europe,  in  which  the  people  from 
the  town  and  the  people  from  the  country,  pro- 
ducer and  consumer,  meet  and  bargain  with 
each  other,  seems  a  much  more  wholesome  and 
human  place  than,  for  example,  a  factory. 
Besides  that,  any  one  who  goes  abroad  to  see 
people  rather  than  to  see  things  will,  I 
believe,  find  the  markets  of  Europe  more  in- 
teresting and  more  instructive  than  the  museums. 

i66 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA        167 

During  my  journey  across  Europe  I  visited 
the  markets  in  nearly  every  large  city  in  which 
I  stopped.  I  saw  something  of  the  curious 
Sunday  markets  of  Bethnal  Green  and  White- 
chapel,  London,  with  their  long  lines  of  shouting 
hucksters  and  their  crowds  of  hungry  shoppers, 
and  the  Jewish  market  in  the  Ghetto  of  Cracow, 
Poland,  w^here  pale-faced  rabbis  were  slaughter- 
ing, according  to  the  strict  ritual  of  the  Jewish 
law,  droves  of  squaw^king  geese.  Among  others, 
I  visited  the  Monday  market  in  Catania,  which 
differs  from  the  markets  I  had  seen  elsewhere 
in  the  multitudes  of  articles  of  household  manu- 
facture oifered  for  sale,  and  in  the  general  holi- 
day character  of  the  proceedings. 

It  was  like  a  country  fair  in  one  of  our  South- 
ern cities,  only  cruder  and  quainter.  For  exam- 
ple, instead  of  the  familiar  shooting  gallery,  with 
painted  targets,  one  enterprising  man  had  set 
up  a  dozen  painted  sticks  on  a  rough  box,  and 
offered  to  the  public,  for  something  less  than  a 
cent,  the  opportunity  to  shoot  at  them  with  an 
ancient  cross-bow,  such  as  I  did  not  imagine 
existed  outside  of  museums.  Then  there  were 
all  sorts  of  curious  and  primitive  games  of 
chance.  Among  other  devices  for  entertaining 
and  mystifying  the  people  I  noticed  a  young 
woman  seated  in  a  chair,  blindfolded.  A  crowd 
surrounded  her  while  she  named  various  objects 


i68  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

belonging  to  the  crowd,  which  her  companion,  a 
man,  held  in  his  hands.  At  the  same  time  she 
told  the  colour  of  the  hair  and  eyes,  and  reeled 
off  a  prophecy  in  regard  to  the  future  of  the  dif- 
ferent persons  to  whom  the  article  belonged. 

More  interesting  still  were  the  public  story- 
tellers, who  seemed  to  take  the  place,  to  a 
certain  extent,  of  the  daily  newspaper  among  the 
masses  of  the  people,  so  many  of  whom  can 
neither  read  nor  write. 

The  story-tellers  stood  upon  little  platforms, 
which  they  carried  about  [with  them  like  port- 
able pulpits,  in  order  that  they  might  be  plainly 
visible  to  the  crowd.  Each  carried  a  large  banner 
on  which  were  painted  a  series  of  pictures  repre- 
senting the  scenes  in  the  stories  which  they  told. 

These  stories,  together  with  the  pictures  which 
illustrated  them,  had  apparently  been  composed 
by  the  men  who  told  them,  for  they  all  touched 
upon  contemporary  events.  In  fact,  most  of 
them  referred  in  some  way  to  America.  Like 
those  songbirds  that  have  only  one  constantly 
repeated  note,  each  story-teller  had  but  one 
story,  which  he  told  over  and  over  again,  in 
the  same  tones,  with  the  same  attitudes,  and 
same  little  dramatic  surprises. 

Although  I  was  not  able  to  understand  what 
was  said,  it  was  not  difficult  to  follow  the 
narrative  from  the  pictures.     One  story  told 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA        169 

'  the  fortunes  of  a  young  girl  who  had  been 
lured  away  to  America.  Perhaps  she  was  one 
of  those  "white  slaves"  to  which  I  noticed  a 
good  many  references  in  Italy,  and  in  other  of 
the  emigrant  countries.  At  any  rate,  she  was 
imprisoned  in  a  very  dark  and  dismal  place  in 
some  part  of  New  York  which  I  was  not  able  to 
locate  from  the  picture.  Then  her  brother, 
or  perhaps  it  was  her  lover,  whom  she  had  left 
behind  in  Sicily,  saw  a  vision.  It  was  a  vision 
of  St.  George  and  the  dragon,  and  after  seeing 
this  vision  he  rose  up  and  went  to  America  and 
rescued  her.  The  touching  thing  about  it  all, 
the  thing  that  showed  how  realistic  this  whole 
tale  was  to  the  crowd  that  stood  and  listened 
to  it  in  rapt  attention,  was  that  when  the  story 
reached  the  point  where  the  picture  of  St. 
George  and  the  dragon  is  referred  to,  the  men 
simultaneously  raised  their  hats.  At  the  same 
time  the  speaker  assumed  a  more  solemn  tone, 
and  the  crowd  listened  with  a  reverential  awe 
while  he  went  on  to  relate  the  miracle  by  which 
the  young  woman  had  been  saved. 

The  sight  of  this  crowd  of  people,  standing 
bareheaded  in  an  open  square,  listening  rever- 
entially to  the  story  of  a  street  fakir,  struck  me, 
like  so  much  else  that  I  saw  of  the  life  of  the 
common  people  in  Catania  and  elsewhere  in 
Sicily,  as  strangely  touching  and  pathetic.     It 


I70  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

reminded  me  of  all  that  I  had  read  and  heard 
of  the  superstitions  of  the  common  people  of 
the  country  and  gave  me  as  insight,  such  as  I 
had  not  had  before,  into  the  way  in  which  the 
masses  of  the  people  feel  toward  the  Catholic 
Church,  with  all  its  religious  ceremonies  and 
symbols.  It  led  me  to  suspect,  also,  that  much 
in  the  religious  life  of  the  Sicilian  people  which 
looks,  perhaps,  to  those  who  have  had  a  dif- 
ferent training,  like  superstition,  is  in  fact 
merely  the  natural  expression  of  the  reverence 
and  piety  of  a  simple-minded  and,  perhaps,  an 
ignorant  people. 

I  was  told,  while  I  was  in  that  city,  that 
Catania  has  two  hundred  and  fifty  churches, 
and  though  I  do  not  know  that  this  statement  is 
correct,  I  could  easily  believe  it  from  the  inter- 
minable clanging  church  bells  that  smote  upon 
my  ears  the  first  Sunday  morning  I  was  in  the 
city.  At  any  rate,  no  one  can  go  through  the 
city  and  look  at  the  public  buildings,  or  study 
the  people  in  their  homes,  without  meeting 
abundant  evidence  of  the  all-pervading  in- 
fluence of  the  Church.  Everywhere,  built  into 
the  buildings,  on  the  street  corners,  and  in  every 
possible  public  place,  one  sees  little  images  of 
the  Virgin,  with  perhaps  a  burning  lamp  before 
them.  Once  I  ran  across  one  such  image,  with 
a  lamp  before  it,  planted  in  a  field.     I  was  told 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA        171 

It  was  there  to  protect  the  crops  from  the  influ- 
ence of  evil  spirits. 

It  did  not  seem  to  have  occurred  to  any  one 
that  the  image  of  the  Virgin  and  the  blessing  of 
the  Church,  which  were  intended  to  protect 
the  fields  from  evil  spirits,  might  protect  them 
also  from  thieves,  or  banish  from  the  community 
the  evil  spirits  that  inspired  men  to  rob  and 
steal.  If  this  opinion  had  been  very  widely 
held  among  the  masses  of  the  people  it  would 
hardly  have  been  necessary  to  guard  the  fields 
night  and  day  during  the  harvest  season,  by 
men  armed  with  shotguns. 

This  brings  me  to  another  point  in  which  I 
should  like  to  compare  the  masses  of  the  Sicilian 
people  with  the  masses  of  the  Negroes  in  the 
Southern  States  —  namely,  in  respect  to  their 
religious  life. 

Naturally,  the  first  thing  that  strikes  one,  in 
attempting  to  make  such  a  comparison,  is  the 
wide  difference  in  the  situation  of  the  average 
black  man  in  the  Southern  States  and  the 
corresponding  class  in  Sicily.  In  all  the  exter- 
nals of  religious  life,  at  least,  the  Sicilian  is  far 
ahead  of  the  Negro. 

Sicily  was  one  of  the  first  countries  in  the 
world  in  which  Christianity  was  planted.  St. 
Paul  stopped  three  days  in  Syracuse  on  his  way 
to  Rome,  and  there  is  still  standing  a  building 


Vff 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

in  Catania  in  which  St.  Peter  is  said  to  have 
preached. 

Sicily  has  inherited  the  traditions,  the  or- 
ganization and  the  splendid  churches  and  build- 
ings which  have  grown  up  and  accumulated 
through  a  thousand  years  and  more.  The 
black  man,  on  the  contrary,  gained  his  first 
knowledge  of  Christianity  in  slavery  and  in  a 
very  imperfect  and  unsatisfactory  form.  It 
is  only  since  freedom  came  that  the  Negro 
church  has  had  an  opportunity  to  extend  and 
establish  its  influence  among  the  masses  of  the 
people,  while  out  of  their  poverty  Negroes,  who 
are  even  yet  struggling  to  build  and  own  their 
own  homes,  and  so  establish  family  life,  have 
had  to  build  churches  and  training  schools  for 
their  ministers,  to  establish  a  religious  press, 
to  support  missionary  societies  and  all  the  other 
aids  and  accessories  of  organized  religion. 

In  view  of  the  wide  difference  between  the 
people  of  Sicily  and  the  Negroes  in  America, 
so  far  as  concerns  the  external  side  of  their 
religious  life,  it  struck  me  as  curious  that  I 
should  hear  almost  exactly  the  same  criticism 
of  the  people  in  Sicily,  in  respect  to  their  re- 
ligion, that  I  have  frequently  heard  of  the 
Negroes  in  America.  A  very  large  number  of 
the  popular  superstitions  of  Sicily,  what  we 
sometimes  call  the  folklore  of  a  country,  are 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA 

very  much  like  many  of  the  notions  that  the 
Negroes  are  supposed  to  have  imported  to 
America  from  Africa.  Any  one  who  has  Hs- 
tened  to  any  of  the  older  generation  of  coloured 
people  tell  of  the  various  ways  of  '^  working  the 
roots,"  as  they  call  it,  will  learn  a  great  many 
things  that  can  be  almost  exactly  duplicated 
in  the  popular  notions  about  drugs  and  philters 
among  the  people  of  Sicily. 

It  is  said  of  the  Sicilians,  among  other  things, 
that  their  Christianity  is  saturated  with  pagan 
superstitions  and  that,  for  the  average  Sicilian, 
religion  has  no  connection  with  moral  life. 

In  many  cases  it  seems  as  if  the  image  of  the 
Virgin  has  become,  among  the  lower  class  of 
people,  little  more  than  a  fetish,  a  thing  to 
conjure  with.  For  example,  the  peasant  who, 
in  order  to  revenge  himself  upon  his  landlord, 
and  perhaps  to  compensate  himself  for  what  he 
believes  has  been  taken  from  him  by  fraud  or 
extortion,  determines  to  rob  his  landlord's  field 
or  flock,  will  pray  before  one  of  these  images, 
before  starting  out,  for  success.  If  he  is  really 
"pious"  he  may  off"er  to  the  saints,  in  case  he 
is  successful,  a  portion  of  what  he  has  stolen. 
If,  however,  he  fails  and  is  merely  superstitious, 
he  will  sometimes  curse  and  revile,  or  even  spit 
upon,  the  image  to  which  he  previously  prayed. 

I  have  heard  that  the  savages  in  Africa  will 


174  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

sometimes  behave  in  the  same  way  toward  the 
object  of  which  they  have  made  a  fetish,  but 
I  have  never  heard  of  anything  like  that  among 
my  own  people  in  the  South.  The  Negro  is 
frequently  superstitious,  as  most  other  ignorant 
people  are,  but  he  is  not  cynical,  and  never 
scoffs  at  anything  which  has  a  religious  signifi- 
cance. 

One  thing  that  indicates  the  large  part  that 
religion  plays  in  the  lives  of  the  Sicilian  peo- 
ple is  the  fact  that  out  of  the  365  days  in  the 
year  104  are  sacred  to  the  Church.  The  large 
amounts  of  money  expended  annually  by  the 
different  cities  of  Sicily  upon  processions  and 
celebrations  in  honour  of  the  local  saints  is  one 
of  the  sources  of  complaint  made  by  those  who 
are  urging  reforms  in  the  local  administrations. 
They  say  that  the  money  expended  in  this  way 
might  better  be  used  in  improving  the  sanitary 
condition  of  the  cities. 

As  indicating  how  little  all  this  religious 
activity  connects  itself  with  practical  and  moral 
life  it  is  stated  that,  while  Sicily  supports  ten 
times  as  many  churches  and  clergy  in  proportion 
to  its  population  as  is  true  of  Germany,  for 
instance,  statistics  show  that  it  suffers  from 
eleven  times  as  many  murders  and  crimes  of 
violence.  In  quoting  these  statements  I  do 
not  intend  to  suggest  a  comparison  between  the 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA     >^ 

form  of  religion  that  prevails  in  Germany  with 
that  in  Sicily.  Religion,  like  everything  else 
in  Sicily,  is  deeply  rooted  in  the  past.  It  has 
shared  all  the  changing  history  of  that  island, 
and  naturally  reflects  the  conditions,  sentiments, 
and  prejudices  of  the  people. 

If  the  Catholic  Church  is  in  any  way  to  blame 
for  the  existing  conditions  in  Sicily  it  seems  to 
me  it  is  in  the  fact  that  during  the  long  period 
of  years  in  which  the  education  of  the  people 
has  been  almost  wholly  in  its  hands,  the  Church 
has  held  fast  to  the  old  medieval  notion  that 
education  was  only  for  the  few,  and  for 
that  reason  has  done  little  or  nothing  to 
raise  the  standard  of  intelligence  among  the 
masses. 

It  has  been  a  great  mistake  on  the  part  of 
the  Church,  it  seems  to  me,  to  permit  it  to  be 
said  that  the  Socialists,  many  of  whom  are  not 
merely  indifferent  but  openly  opposed  to  the 
Church,  represent  the  only  party  that  has  sin- 
cerely desired  and  striven  for  the  enlightenment 
and  general  welfare  of  the  people  at  the  bottom. 
Such  a  statement  could  not,  of  course,  be  so 
easily  made  of  the  Church  in  its  relations  to 
the  masses  of  the  people  elsewhere  in  Italy. 

The  fact  about  the  Sicilian  seems  to  be, 
however,  not  that  he  is,  as  is  sometimes  said  of 
the  Negro,  unmoral,  but  that  the  moral  code  by 


176  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

which  he  governs  himself  sometimes  makes  him 
a  menace  to  public  order. 

One  of  the  first  things  that  impressed  me, 
while  I  was  in  Sicily,  was  the  enormous  and 
expensive  precautions  that  were  necessary  to 
guard  the  fields  from  thieves.  Hundreds  of 
miles  of  high  stone  walls  have  been  erected  in 
different  parts  of  the  island  to  protect  property 
from  vandalism  and  thieves.  In  the  harvest 
time  it  is  necessary  to  practically  garrison  the 
island  with  armed  guards  to  preserve  the  crops. 
The  cost  of  putting  a  private  policeman  in  every 
field  and  garden  is  very  heavy,  and  this  expense, 
which  is  imposed  upon  the  land,  falls  in  the  long 
run  upon  the  labourer. 

The  reason  for  this  condition  rests  in  the 
conviction,  which  every  farm  labourer  shares, 
that  for  his  long  and  crushing  labour  on  the  land 
he  does  not  receive  a  sufficient  wage.  In  many 
cases  it  is  likely  enough  that  he  is  driven  by 
hunger  to  steal.  Under  such  circumstances 
it  is  not  difficult  to  understand  that  stealing 
soon  ceases  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  crime,  and 
seems  to  be  regarded  as  a  kind  of  enterprise 
w^hich  is  only  wrong  when  it  is  unsuccessful. 
But  there  is  something  further,  I  learned,  in 
the  back  of  the  head  of  almost  every  Sicilian 
which  explains  many  things  in  the  Sicilian 
character  and  customs  that  strike  strangers  as 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA        177 

peculiar.  I  refer  to  what  goes  in  Sicily  under 
the  name  of  the  omerta,  and  is,  like  some  of  the 
customs  that  exist  in  the  Southern  States,  part 
of  the  unwritten  law  of  the  country.  The 
principle  of  this  unwritten  law  is  silence.  If 
any  one  is  robbed,  wounded,  or  injured  in  any 
way  he  remains  silent.  If  the  police  seek  to 
find  out  who  is  his  enemy  he  will  answer,  *'I 
do  not  know." 

In  some  provinces  in  Sicily  it  is  said  to  be 
almost  impossible  to  arrest  and  convict  crim- 
inals, because  no  one  wall  hesitate  to  go  into 
court  and  perjure  himself  for  a  friend.  It  is 
considered  a  point  of  honour  to  do  so.  On  the 
other  hand,  to  assist  the  police  in  any  way  in  the 
prosecution  of  crime  is  looked  upon  as  a  disgrace. 
The  ordinary  man  may  be  a  thief,  a  robber,  or  a 
murderer  and  be  forgiven,  but  there  is  no  com- 
fort in  heaven  or  earth  for  the  man  w^ho  betrays 
a  neighbour  or  a  friend. 

Complaint  is  sometimes  made  that  the  col- 
oured people  in  the  Southern  States  will  protect 
and  conceal  those  among  their  number  who  are 
accused  of  crime.  In  most  cases  where  that 
happens  I  believe  it  w^ill  be  found  that  the  real 
reason  is  not  the  desire  to  save  any  one  of  their 
number  from  a  just  and  deserved  punishment, 
but  rather  the  feeling  of  uncertainty,  because 
of  what  they  have  heard  and  seen  of  lynchings 


178  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

In  different  parts  of  the  country,  as  to  whether 
the  accused  will  have  the  benefit  of  a  full  and 
fair  investigation  in  a  court  of  law. 

There  is  among  the  Negro  population  of  the 
United  States,  even  though  the  administration 
of  the  law  is  almost  entirely  in  the  hands  of 
another  race,  no  settled  distrust  of  the  Govern- 
ment and  the  courts  and  no  disposition,  as  is 
true  of  the  Sicilian,  to  resort  to  private  justice 
and  revenge.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  fre- 
quently gets  into  trouble  with  the  police  and  the 
courts  the  Negro  is,  by  disposition  at  least, 
the  most  law-abiding  man  in  the  community. 
I  mean  by  this,  the  Negro  is  never  an  anarchist, 
he  is  not  opposed  to  law  as  such,  but  submits  to 
it  when  he  has  committed  a  crime. 

This  brings  me  to  another  feature  of  Sicilian 
life  —  namely,  the  Mafia. 

I  had  heard  a  great  deal  about  the  Mafia  in 
Italy,  and  about  the  criminal  political  organi- 
zations in  other  parts  of  Italy,  before  I  came  to 
Europe,  and  was  anxious,  if  possible,  to  learn 
something  that  would  give  me  an  insight  into 
the  local  causes  and  conditions  which  had  pro- 
duced them. 

One  of  the  professional  story-tellers  whom  I 
encountered  while  I  was  wandering  about  in 
the  market  in  Catania  recalled  the  subject  to 
my  mind.     He  was  retailing  to  a  crowd  in  the 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA   if^-"" 

market  square  a  story  that  was  even  more  ex- 
citing and  interesting  to  me,  at  least,  than  the 
one  which  I  have  already  mentioned.  It  was, 
in  fact,  nothing  less  than  an  account  of  the 
murders  and  outrages  of  the  Black  Hand  in 
New  York  City. 

At  first  it  struck  me  as  very  curious  that  I 
should  meet  in  Italy,  the  home  of  the  Mafia 
and  the  Camorra,  a  crowd  of  people  in  the  public 
square  listening  with  apparent  wonder  and  awe 
to  an  account  of  the  fabulous  crimes  and  mis- 
deeds of  their  fellow  countrymen  in  another 
part  of  the  world.  I  had  a  sort  of  notion  that 
the  Black  Hand  operations  would  be  so  familiar 
to  Sicilians  that  they  would  have  no  curiosity 
about  them.  It  was  not  so,  however,  and  after 
I  learned  that  New  York  had  an  Italian  popu- 
lation larger  than  Rome,  larger,  in  fact,  than  any 
Italian  city,  with  the  exception  of  Naples,  this 
did  not  seem  so  strange.  There  are,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  more  than  500,000  Italians  in  New 
York  City,  and  85  per  cent,  of  them  are  from 
southern  Italy.  Among  this  85  per  cent,  are 
very  many  who  belong  to  the  criminal  classes. 
The  result  is  that  the  Mafia,  under  the  name  of 
the  Black  Hand,  is  probably  as  active  and,  per- 
haps, as  powerful  among  the  Italian  population 
in  New  York  to-day  as  it  ever  was  in  Italy. 

While  I  was  in  Palermo  I  had  the  place  pointed 


i8o  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

out  to  me  where  Petrosino,  the  Italian  detective 
from  New  York,  who  went  to  Sicily  to  secure 
the  records  of  some  of  the  noted  Italian  criminals 
then  living  in  America,  was  shot  and  killed. 
Petrosino  was  killed  March  12,  1909.  The  kill- 
ing of  this  American  officer  in  the  streets  of 
Palermo  served  to  call  attention  to  the  number 
of  Black  Hand  crimes  committed  by  Italians  in 
this  country.  During  the  next  nine  months 
after  Petrosino's  death  it  was  reported  that  no 
less  than  fifty  "Italian  killings,"  as  they  were 
called,  took  place  either  in  New  York  City 
itself  or  in  the  surrounding  territory,  and  from 
1906  to  1909,  according  to  statistics  prepared 
by  the  New  York  World,  of  the  112  unexplained 
>  murders  committed  in  and  around  New  York, 
54  were  those  of  Italians.  This  suggests,  at 
least,  the  manner  in  which  our  own  country  is 
aifected  by  the  conditions  of  the  masses  in 
southern  Italy  and  Sicily. 

The  Mafia,  the  Black  Hand,  as  it  is  called  in 
America,  is  a  kind  of  institution  which  is  so 
peculiar  and  to  such  an  extent  the  product  of 
purely  local  conditions  that  it  seems  difficult 
even  for  those  who  know  most  about  it  to  ex- 
plain its  existence.  One  statement  which  I 
heard  in  regard  to  the  matter  was  especially 
interesting  to  me.  It  was  said  that  the  con- 
dition of  mind  which  made  the  Mafia  possible, 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA        i8i 

the  fear  and  distrust  which  divide  the  masses 
of  the  people  from  the  ruling  classes  and  the 
Government,  was  the  result  of  the  mingling 
of  the  races  in  the  island;  that  the  Mafia  was, 
in  short,  Sicily's  race  problem. 

It  is  certainly  true  that  in  no  other  part  of 
Europe,  with  the  possible  exception  of  Spain, 
have  the  different  peoples  of  Europe  and  Africa 
become  so  intermingled  as  they  have  in  this 
island,  which  is  one  of  the  natural  bridges 
between  Europe  and  Africa.  In  addition  to 
the  Arabs  and  Saracens  from  Africa,  nearly  all 
the  races  of  Europe,  Germans,  Latins,  Greeks, 
have  all  at  different  times  lived  and  ruled  on 
the  island.  Near  Palermo,  for  example,  there 
are  still  the  remnants  of  a  colony  of  Albanians, 
a  Slavic  people  who  speak  modern  Greek,  and 
worship  after  the  fashion  of  the  Eastern  Church, 
and  there  are  fragments  and  remnants  of  many 
other  races  still  preserved  in  different  parts  of 
the  island. 

My  own  experience  has  taught  me,  how- 
ever, to  distrust  what  I  may  call /^racial  ex- 
planations." They  are  convenient  and  easy  to 
make,  but  too  sweeping,  and,  practically,  the 
effect  of  them  is  to  discourage  any  effort  to 
improve.  For  example,  if  some  one  discovers 
that  the  condition  in  which  a  people  happens 
to  be  found  at  any  given  time  is  due  to  race, 


I«2 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 


that  it  is  constitutional,  and  in  the  blood,  so  to 
speak,  then,  of  course,  there  is  nothing  to  do. 
If,  however,  it  is  due  to  environment,  education 
may  help.  The  discussion  and  emphasis  on  the 
fact  of  race  have  been  made  the  excuse,  in  the 
Southern  States,  for  a  good  deal  of  apathy  and 
indifference  in  regard  to  the  hopes  and  progress 
of  the  Negro.  In  fact,  whenever  I  hear  a  poli- 
tician in  the  South  ask  the  rhetorical  question, 
"Can  the  leopard  change  his  spots.?"  I  usually 
find  that  he  is  opposing  the  establishment  of  a 
Negro  school  or  is  discouraging  some  other 
effort  to  improve  the  condition  of  the  Negro 
people. 

The  real  trouble  with  explanations  of  this 
kind  is  that  as  soon  as  a  man  has  made  up  his 
mind,  for  example,  that  a  people,  or  class  of 
people,  belongs  to  a  so-called  "inferior  race," 
he  is  not  inclined  to  support  any  kind  of  ex- 
periment, like  the  building  of  a  school,  that 
may  prove  that  his  explanation  was  mistaken. 

The  real  reason  for  the  backward  condition 
of  Sicily  is,  in  my  opinion,  not  so  much  the  inter- 
mixture of  races  as  the  neglect  and  oppression  of 
the  masses  of  the  people.  In  1861,  when  Sicily 
became  a  part  of  the  Italian  Confederation, 
90  per  cent,  of  the  population  were  wholly  un- 
able to  read  or  write.  This  means  that  at  this 
time  the  people  of  Sicily  were  not  much  better 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA        183 

off,  as  far  as  education  is  concerned,  than  the 
Negro  slaves  at  the  time  of  emancipation.  It 
has  been  estimated  that  between  5  and  10  per 
cent,  of  the  slaves  could  read  and  write. 

One  of  the  first  things  the  Italian  Govern- 
ment attempted  to  do,  after  annexation,  was 
to  reorganize  the  school  system  of  Sicily.  But 
even  under  the  new  Government,  and  with  a 
compulsory  education  law  on  the  statute  books, 
progress  has  been  slow.  In  1881,  twenty  years 
later,  more  than  84  per  cent,  of  the  population 
could  neither  read  nor  write,  and  as  late  as  1901, 
for  every  hundred  inhabitants  of  school  age, 
more  than  seventy  were  illiterate. 

In  practically  the  same  period  —  that  is, 
*from  1866  to  1900  —  the  Negro  population  in 
the  United  States  reduced  its  illiteracy  to 
44.5  per  cent,  of  the  population  of  school  age, 
and  for  every  one  hundred  Negroes  in  the 
Southern  States,  fifty-two  could  read  and  write. 

Sicily  has  three  universities,  one  in  each  of 
its  three  largest  cities,  Palermo,  Catania,  and 
Messina,  but  they  are  for  the  few,  and  have  in 
no  way  connected  themselves  with  the  practi- 
cal interests  and  the  daily  life  of  the  people. 
One  result  of  the  ignorance  of  the  people  is  that 
in  Sicily,  where  the  educational  qualifications 
exclude  more  persons  than  elsewhere  from  the 
suffrage,  not  more  than  3.62  persons  in  every 


i84  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

hundred  of  the  population  vote.  This  is  ac- 
cording to  statistics,  which  go  back,  however, 
to  1895. 

As  near  as  I  can  make  out,  the  Mafia  seems  to 
have  grown  up,  in  the  first  place,  like  the  White 
Caps,  the  Night  Riders,  and  the  lynchers  in  our 
own  country,  as  a  means  of  private  vengeance. 
The  people,  perhaps  because  they  despised  and 
hated  the  Government,  preferred  to  settle  their 
scores  in  the  old  barbaric  fashion  of  private 
warfare.  The  consequence  was  that  the  small 
towns  were  divided  by  tribal  and  family  feuds. 
Under  such  circumstances  professional  outlaws 
became  of  service  either  for  the  purposes  of 
attack  or  defence.  From  conditions  something 
like  this  what  is  known  as  the  Mafia  sprang. 

It  is  said  that  it  was  the  rich  fruit  gardens  of 
the  "Shell  of  Gold"  outside  of  Palermo  which 
gave  the  Mafia  Its  first  secure  foothold  and 
eventually  made  that  city  the  centre  of  its 
activity.  In  that  region  field  guards  were  nec- 
essary, in  addition  to  the  high  walls,  to  keep 
thieves  out  of  the  plantations  where  the  golden 
fruit  ripened  almost  all  the  year  round.  In 
the  course  of  time  these  field  guards  became 
associated  in  a  sort  of  clan  or  guild.  In  these 
guilds  the  most  enterprising  of  the  guards  event- 
ually became  the  leaders,  and  ruled  those  under 
them  like  the  tribal  chiefs. 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA        185 

Once  established,  these  bands  soon  dominated 
the  situation.  No  property  owner  dared  in- 
stall a  guard  without  the  consent  of  the  chief. 
If  he  did,  he  was  likely  to  have  his  trees  de- 
stroyed or  his  whole  crop  stolen.  A  guard  who 
was  not  a  member  of  the  band  was  likely  to  be 
brought  down  some  night  with  a  shot  from  a 
hedge.  On  the  other  hand,  the  mere  knowl- 
edge that  a  certain  plantation  was  under 
the  protection  of  the  Mafia  was  in  itself 
almost  sufficient  to  insure  it  from  attack, 
and  this  because  the  Mafia,  through  all  its 
devious  connections  with  the  lower  and 
criminal  classes,  was  much  better  able  to 
ferret  out  and  punish  the  criminals  than  the 
police. 

By  making  himself  at  the  same  time  useful 
and  feared  in  the  community,  the  chief  of  the 
Mafia  soon  began  to  get  his  hand  in  almost 
everything  that  was  going  on.  He  found  him- 
self called  on  to  settle  disputes.  He  mixed  in 
politics  and  was  secretly  in  the  employ  of  rich 
and  powerful  men.  In  this  way  the  Mafia, 
which  was  at  bottom  largely  a  criminal  organi- 
zation, gained  in  time  standing  and  recogni- 
tion in  the  community,  in  some  respects,  not 
unlike,  I  imagine,  that  of  Tammany  Hall  in 
New  York.  When  the  Mafia,  under  the  name 
of  the  Black  Hand,  reached  New  York,  however, 


i86  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

it  seems  to  have  become  a  criminal  organization; 
pure  and  simple. 

Those  who  have  studied  the  history  of  this 
peculiar  organization  much  farther  than  I  have 
been  able  to  do  say  that  in  their  opinion  the 
Mafia,  or  Black  Hand,  will  not  long  survive  in 
America  because  there  is  in  this  country  no 
such  oppression  of  the  poor  by  the  rich  and  no 
such  hatred  and  suspicion  of  the  high  by  the 
low  as  is  the  case  in  Sicily,  to  give  it  general 
support.  In  other  words,  the  Mafia  is  depend- 
ent on  class  hatred  and  class  oppression  for  its 
existence. 

Perhaps  I  can  give  some  idea  of  what  it  is 
that  embitters  the  poor  man  in  Sicily,  who  is 
without  property,  education,  or  opportunity, 
against  the  large  property  owners,  the  rich, 
educated,  and  ruling  class. 

It  is  estimated  by  the  Socialists  that  in  Italy 
the  labouring  man  pays  54  per  cent,  of  the 
taxes;  business  men  and  the  professional  classes 
pay  34  per  cent.,  while  the  class  which  lives 
upon  rents  and  the  income  from  investments  of 
various  kinds  furnishes  but  12  per  cent,  of  the 
revenues  of  the  state. 

Italy  has,  I  think,  every  kind  and  method  of 
taxation  which  has  ever  been  invented.  There 
is  an  income  tax,  which  varies  between  7^  and  20 
per  cent.,  though  small  incomes  of  less  than  one 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA        187 

hundred  dollars  a  year  are  exempt.  The  tax 
on  landed  property  amounts  to  30,  40,  or  even  50 
per  cent.  In  addition  to  these  there  is  the 
lottery,  the  state  monopolies,  the  stamp  tax 
and-  dog  tax.  Finally  the  municipal  taxes  on 
all  kinds  of  foodstuffs  which  are  brought  into 
the  town.  This  tax  absorbs  from  20  to  30  per 
cent,  of  the  labouring  man's  income. 

All  these  taxes,  direct  and  indirect,  are  so 
arranged  that  the  heaviest  burden  falls  upon  that 
portion  of  the  community  which  is  least  able  to 
bear  it.  For  example,  salt  is  a  Government 
monopoly  in  Italy,  and  in  1901  the  people  of 
Italy  paid  ^15,000  for  salt  which  cost  the  Gov- 
ernment ^1,200  to  manufacture.  The  Italian 
Government  ships  salt  to  America  for  the  use  of 
the  Gloucester  fishermen  for  50  cents  a  barrel  of 
280  pounds,  or  five  and  three-fifth  pounds  for  a 
cent.  This  same  salt  costs  the  Italian,  because 
of  the  monopoly  of  the  Government,  4  cents  a 
pound  —  that  is  to  say,  twelve  times  what  it 
costs  in  America.  In  order  to  protect  this 
monopoly  the  Government  even  goes  so  far  as 
to  station  guards  along  the  whole  seacoast  to 
prevent  people  from  "stealing"  sea  water  in 
buckets,  to  obtain  salt. 

Fortunately  the  state  monopoly  of  salt  does 
not  extend  to  Sicily,  but  the  principle  of  taxing 
the  people  according  to  their  necessities,  rather 


i88  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

than  according  to  their  ability  to  pay,  is  the 
same  there  as  elsewhere  in  Italy.  As  an  illus- 
tration of  the  unfair  way  in  which  the  taxes  are 
levied  in  some  parts  of  the  country  it  is  said  that 
the  donkey  of  the  poor  farmer  is  compelled  to 
pay  a  tax,  while  the  saddle-horse  of  the  rich  land- 
lord goes  free. 

In  comparison  with  this,  the  Negro  in  the 
South  hardly  knows  what  taxes  are.  The 
Negro  farmer,  for  example,  has  an  inexhaustible 
market  for  his  cotton,  corn,  pork,  and  vegeta- 
bles, and  all  the  other  farm  vegetables  that  he 
can  raise.  Land  is  so  cheap  that  a  thrifty  far- 
mer can  buy  and  pay  for  a  farm  within  five  or 
six  years.  Taxes  on  farm  land  are  so  low  that 
the  farmer  hardly  considers  them  in  his  yearly 
budget. 

Poor  as  some  of  the  Negro  schools  are  in 
some  parts  of  the  South,  they  are  vastly  better 
and  more  numerous  than  those  of  the  country 
people  in  Sicily.  More  than  that,  the  Govern- 
ment puts  no  tax  either  on  rain  or  sunshine, 
and  the  Negro  in  the  Southern  States  has  plenty 
of  both,  which  is  not  true  of  the  Sicilian  farmer, 
who  has  too  much  sunshine  and  not  enough  rain. 
So  much  is  the  farmer  in  Sicily  in  need  of  water 
that  at  certain  times  in  the  year  it  is  said  that 
wine  is  cheaper  than  water.  Finally,  the  Negro 
farmer,  if  he  desires  to  take  a  load  of  produce 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA        189 

to  the  town,  does  not,  as  is  the  case  of  the  SiciHan, 
meet  a  poHceman  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city 
who  takes  one  fifth  of  his  cotton,  corn,  eggs,  or 
whatever  he  happens  to  have,  away  from  him, 
before  he  will  allow  him  to  enter  the  town. 

One  day,  while  I  was  walking  along  the  edge 
of  the  harbour  in  Catania,  I  noticed  a  man  who 
was  at  work  mending  a  high  wire  netting,  about 
twenty  or  thirty  feet  high,  which  extended  along 
the  edge  of  the  water.  I  saw  that  it  extended 
as  far  as  I  could  see.  Upon  inquiry  I  learned 
that  it  was  placed  there  to  prevent  the  fishermen, 
whom  I  noticed  constantly  coming  and  going 
with  their  little  sailing  boats,  from  bringing 
their  fish  into  the  city  without  paying  the  tax. 

At  the  custom  house,  where  the  fishermen 
land,  I  observed  one  of  these  fishermen,  who  had 
landed  with  a  sm.all  quantity  of  fish,  which  he 
was  carrying  to  the  market  nearby,  stop  and 
fumble  in  his  clothes,  trying  to  find  money 
enough  to  pay  the  tariff.  When  he  could  not 
find  sufficient  money  to  pay  the  sum  demanded, 
he  left  two  small  fishes  behind  with  the  collector 
to  cover  the  amount  of  the  tax. 

Fish  is  the  cheapest  and  most  abundant  food 
the  poor  in  the  city  can  get  to  eat.  The  sea, 
just  beyond  their  doors,  is  swarming  with  this 
kind  of  food.  Nevertheless  the  city  main- 
tains an  expensive  army  of  officials  to  collect 


IQO  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

this  miserable  little  tax  upon  the  necessities  of 
the  poor. 

The  yearly  income  of  a  labourer's  family  in 
Catania  is  about  750  lire,  or  ^170  a  year.  Of 
this  amount  it  has  been  reckoned  that  in  the 
way  of  taxes  upon  foodstuffs  brought  into  the 
city  the  labourer  pays  150  lire,  or  one  fifth  of 
his  whole  income. 

In  spite  of  all  that  has  been  proposed  and 
attempted  to  improve  conditions  in  Sicily  since 
that  island  became  a  part  of  the  Italian  Confed- 
eration, the  Government  has  failed,  so  far  as  I  can 
learn,  to  gain  the  confidence,  respect,  and  coop- 
eration of  the  masses  of  the  people.  Naturally, 
conditions  which  have  grown  up  in  the  course  of 
hundreds  of  years  and  have  become  fixed  in  the 
minds  and  habits  of  all  classes  of  the  people 
cannot  be  changed  suddenly.  The  farther  I 
have  looked  into  the  situation  in  Sicily  the  more 
I  am  convinced  that,  different  as  it  is  in  details, 
the  problem  of  Sicily  is  fundamentally  the  same 
as  that  which  we  have  here  to  face  in  the 
Southern  States  since  the  war.  It  is,  in  short, 
a  problem  of  education,  and  by  that  I  mean 
education  which  seeks  to  touch,  to  lift  and  in- 
spire the  man  at  the  bottom,  and  fit  him  for 
practical  daily  life. 

In  this  opinion  I  find  that  I  am  in  agreement 
with  the  members  of  the  commission  which  was 


THE  CHURCH,  AND  THE  MAFIA  191 

appointed  by  the  Italian  Government  in  1896 
to  investigate  the  condition  of  the  peasants 
in  southern  Italy,  particularly  in  their  relation 
to  the  landed  proprietors.  The  report  of  the 
commission,  which  has  been  recently  made, 
fills  several  large  volumes,  but  the  substance  of 
it  seems  to  be,  as  far  as  I  can  learn,  that  the 
root  of  the  evil  is  in  the  ignorance  of  the  rural 
population.  One  of  the  effects  of  Italian  immi- 
gration to  America  will  probably  be  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  popular  school  system  for  the 
people  on  the  land. 


CHAPTER  XI 

CHILD    LABOUR   AND    THE    SULPHUR   MINES 

THERE  is  one  street  in  Catania,  Sicily, 
which  seems  to  be  given  over  to  the 
trade  and  industry  of  the  poorer  people 
of  the  city.  It  is  not  mentioned  in  the  guide- 
books, and  there  is  perhaps  no  reason  why  it 
should  be.  Nevertheless,  there  are  a  great 
many  interesting  things  to  be  seen  in  that  street 
—  strange,  quaint,  homely  things  —  that  give  a 
stranger  intimate  glimpses  into  the  life  of  the 
people. 

For  example,  on  a  street  corner,  tucked 
away  in  one  of  those  snug  spaces  in  which  one 
sometimes  finds  a  crowded  fruit-stand,  I  dis- 
covered, one  day,  a  macaroni  factory.  Within 
a  space  perhaps  three  feet  wide  and  ten  or 
twelve  feet  in  length  one  man  and  a  boy  con- 
ducted the  whole  business  of  the  sale  as  well  as 
the  manufacture  of  macaroni,  from  the  raw 
grain  to  the  completed  article  of  trade.  The 
process,  as  it  was  carried  on  in  this  narrow  space, 
was  necessarily  a  simple  one.  There  was  a  bag 
of  flour,  a  box  in  which  to  mix  the  paste,  and  a 

192 


CHILD  LABOUR  193 

press  by  which  this  paste  was  forced  through 
holes  that  converted  it  into  hollow  tubes.  Af- 
terward these  hollow  tubes  were  laid  out  on  a 
cloth  frame  which,  because  there  was  no  room 
inside,  had  been  set  up  in  the  street.  After 
leaving  this  cloth  frame  the  macaroni  was  hung 
up  on  little  wooden  forms  for  inspection  and  for 
sale. 

One  of  the  most  curious  and  interesting  places 
on  the  street  was  an  apothecary's  shop  in  which 
the  apothecary  manufactured  all  his  own  drugs, 
and  acted  at  the  same  time  as  the  poor  man's 
physician  or  medical  adviser.  This  man  had 
never  studied  pharmacy  in  a  college.  His 
knowledge  of  drugs  consisted  entirely  of  the 
traditions  and  trade  secrets  which  had  come 
down  to  him  from  his  predecessor  in  the  busi- 
ness. His  shop  was  filled  with  sweet-smelling 
herbs,  gathered  for  him  by  the  peasants,  and 
from  these  he  brewed  his  medicines.  The 
skeleton  of  a  fish  hung  over  the  counter  from 
which  medicines  were  dispensed,  and  the  shelves 
behind  were  filled  with  many  curious  and  musty 
bottles. 

The  apothecary  himself  was  a  very  serious 
person,  with  a  high,  pale  forehead  and  the  ab- 
sorbed air  of  a  man  who  feels  the  weight  of  the 
knowledge  he  carries  around  with  him.  All 
these  things,  especially  the  smell  of  the  herbs, 


194  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

were  quite  awe-inspiring,  and  undoubtedly  con- 
tributed something  to  the  efficacy  of  the  med- 
icines. 

It  is  a  very  busy  street  in  which  the  apothe- 
cary, the  macaroni  manufacturer,  and  the  others 
are  located.  In  fact,  it  seems  as  if  work  never 
stopped  there,  for  it  is  full  of  little  shops  where 
men  sit  in  their  doorways  or  at  the  open  win- 
dows until  late  at  night,  working  steadily  at 
their  various  trades,  making  the  things  they 
sell,  and  stopping  only  now  and  then  to  sell 
the  things  they  make.  The  whole  region  is  a 
hive  of  industry,  for  it  is  the  neighbourhood 
where  the  artisans  live,  those  skilled  workmen 
who  make  everything  by  hand  that,  in  our  part 
of  the  world,  we  have  long  since  learned  to  make 
by  machine.  In  fact,  in  this  street  it  is  possible 
to  get  a  very  good  picture,  I  suspect,  of  the  way 
in  which  trade  and  industry  were  carried  on  in 
other  parts  of  Europe  before  the  age  of  steam. 

About  nine  o'clock  Saturday  night  —  the 
night  upon  which  I  arrived  in  Catania  —  I 
was  walking  down  one  of  the  side  streets  in  this 
part  of  the  city,  when  my  attention  was  at- 
tracted to  a  man,  sitting  in  his  doorway,  work- 
ing by  the  light  of  a  little  smoky  lamp.  He  was 
engaged  in  some  delicate  sort  of  iron  work,  and, 
as  near  as  I  could  make  out,  he  seemed  to  be  a 
tool-maker. 


CHILD  LABOUR  195 

What  particularly  attracted  my  attention  was 
a  little  girl,  certainly  not  more  than  seven  years 
of  age,  who  was  busily  engaged  in  polishing 
and  sharpening  the  stamps  he  used.  I  stopped 
for  a  moment  and  watched  this  man  and  child, 
working  steadily,  silently,  at  this  late  hour  of 
the  night.  I  could  but  marvel  at  the  patience 
and  the  skill  the  child  showed  at  her  work.  It 
was  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I  had  seen  such 
a  very  little  child  at  work,  although  I  saw  many 
others  in  the  days  that  followed. 

I  have  often  heard  it  said  that  people  who 
are  born  under  the  soft  southern  skies  are  habit- 
ually indolent,  and  never  learn  to  work  there, 
as  they  do  in  more  northern  latitudes.  This  is 
certainly  not  true  of  Sicily,  for,  so  far  as  my 
experience  goes,  there  is  no  other  country  in 
Europe  where  incessant  labour  is  so  largely  the 
lot  of  the  masses  of  the  people.  Certainly  there 
is  no  other  country  where  so  much  of  the  labour 
of  all  kinds,  the  skilled  labour  of  the  artisan  as 
well  as  the  rough  labour  of  digging  and  carrying 
on  the  streets  and  in  the  mines,  is  performed  by 
children,  especially  boys. 

There  is  a  law  against  Sunday  labour  in 
Catania,  but  the  next  morning,  as  I  passed 
through  this  same  quarter  of  the  city,  I  found  the 
majority  of  the  people  still  busily  at  work.  I 
stopped  to  watch  a  man  who  was  making  man- 


196  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

dolins.  This  man  lived  in  one  room,  which  was 
at  the  same  time  a  workshop,  kitchen,  and  bed- 
room. There  was  a  great  heap  of  mattresses 
piled  high  upon  the  bed  in  one  corner.  A  little 
charcoal  brazier,  on  which  the  cooking  for  the 
family  w^as  performed,  stood  upon  the  work- 
bench. The  ceiling  was  hung  with  finished  in- 
struments, and  the  pavement  in  front  of  the 
house  was  piled  with  others  in  various  stages  of 
completion.  This  room  was  occupied  by  a 
family  of  five,  all  of  w^hom,  with  the  exception 
of  the  wife  and  mother,  were  engaged,  each  in 
their  different  ways,  in  the  work  of  manufactur- 
ing mandolins.  All  the  skilled  work  (the  set- 
ting of  the  decorations  and  the  polishing  of  the 
frames)  was  performed  by  the  boys,  but  a  little 
girl  who  was  standing  near  seemed  to  be  making 
herself  handy  as  a  helper  in  the  work  of  the 
others. 

In  this  treeless  country,  where  there  is  al- 
most no  wood  of  any  kind  to  be  had,  the  most 
useful  building  material,  after  stone  and  plaster, 
seems  to  be  tile.  Not  only  the  roofs  but  the 
floors  of  most  of  the  buildings  are  made  of  this 
material,  and  its  manufacture  is  consequently 
one  of  the  principal  minor  industries  of  the 
country.  One  day,  while  I  was  wandering 
about  in  the  outskirts  of  Catania,  I  ran  across 
a  plant  where  two  men  and  three  little  boys 


CHILD  LABOUR  197 

were  at  work  mixing  the  clay,  forming  it  into 
octagonal  shapes,  and  piling  it  out  in  the  sun 
to  dry.  The  two  men  were  at  work  in  the 
shade  of  a  large  open  shed,  but  I  could  not 
make  out  what  they  were  doing.  As  nearly  as 
I  could  see,  almost  all  of  the  actual  work  was 
performed  by  the  children,  who  ranged,  I  should 
say,  from  eight  to  twelve  years  of  age.  The 
work  of  carrying  the  heavy  clay,  and  piling  it 
up  in  the  sun  after  it  had  been  formed  into  tiles, 
was  done  by  the  younger  children. 

I  am  certain  that  if  I  had  not  seen  them  with 
my  own  eyes  I  v/ould  never  have  believed  that 
such  very  little  children  could  carry  such  heavy 
loads,  or  that  they  could  work  so  systematically 
and  steadily  as  they  were  compelled  to  do  in 
order  to  keep  pace  with  the  rapid  movements  of 
the  older  boy,  who  was  molding  the  tiles  from 
the  soft  clay.  The  older  boy  could  not  have 
been,  as  I  have  said,  more  than  twelve  years  of 
age,  but  he  worked  with  all  the  skill  and  the 
rapidity  of  an  experienced  piece-worker  driven 
at  the  top  of  his  speed.  I  was  so  filled  with 
pity  and  at  the  same  time  with  admiration  for 
this  boy  that,  as  I  was  unable  to  speak  to  him, 
I  ventured  to  offer  him  a  small  coin  in  token 
of  my  appreciation  of  the  skill  with  which  he 
worked.  So  intent  was  he  on  his  task,  however, 
that  he  would  not  stop  his  work  even  to  pick  up 


iqS        the  man  farthest  down 

the  money  I  proffered  him,  but  simply  thanked 
me  and  nodded  his  head  for  me  to  place  it  on 
the  bench  beside  him. 

These  instances  of  skilled  labour  among  chil- 
dren are  by  no  means  exceptional.  At  another 
time  I  remember  stopping  to  look  at  a  little  boy 
who,  it  seemed  to  me,  could  not  be  more  than 
eight  or  nine  years  of  age,  working  side  by  side 
with  a  man,  evidently  his  father,  together  with 
several  other  men,  all  of  them  engaged  in  build- 
ing a  boat.  The  boy  I  speak  of  was  engaged 
in  finishing  off  with  a  plane  the  hardwood  rail 
of  the  sides  of  the  boat,  and  as  I  watched,  him  at 
his  task  I  was  again  compelled  to  wonder  at 
the  ease  and  skill  with  which  these  little  fellows 
use  their  tools. 

All  these  things,  as  I  have  said,  gave  me  an 
idea  of  the  manner  in  which  the  trades  were 
carried  on  before  the  extensive  use  of  machinery 
had  brought  the  factory  system  into  existence. 
It  showed  me  also  the  easy  way  in  which,  in 
those  days,  the  industrial  education  of  children 
was  carried  on.  When  the  work  in  the  handi- 
crafts was  performed  in  the  house,  or  in  a  shop 
adjoining  the  house,  it  was  an  easy  thing  for 
the  father  to  hand  down  to  the  son  the  trade  he 
himself  had  practised.  Under  the  conditions 
in  which  trades  are  carried  on  in  Sicily  to-day 
children  are  literally  born  to  the  trade  which 


CHILD  LABOUR  199 

their  fathers  practise.  In  these  homes,  where 
the  shop  and  the  home  are  crowded  together  in 
one  or  two  rooms,  children  see  their  fathers  and 
mothers  at  work  from  the  time  they  are  born. 
xA-s  soon  as  they  are  able  to  handle  a  tool  of  any 
kind  the  boys,  at  any  rate,  and  frequently  the 
girls  also,  are  set  to  work  helping  their  parents. 
As  the  father,  in  his  turn,  has  probably  inherited 
the  accumulated  traditions  and  skill  of  gener- 
ations that  preceded  him  in  the  same  trade,  his 
children  are  able  to  get  from  him,  in  the  easiest 
and  most  natural  way,  an  industrial  education 
such  as  no  other  kind  of  school  can  give. 

Whatever  may  be  the  disadvantages  of  the 
people  of  Sicily  in  other  respects,  they  have  an 
advantage  over  the  Negro  in  learning  the  skilled 
trades,  the  value  of  which  it  is  difficult  to  esti- 
mate. Everywhere  one  sees  the  evidences  of 
this  skill  with  the  hand,  not  only  in  the  public 
buildings,  but  in  some  of  the  common  objects  of 
daily  use.  I  have  already  referred  to  the  way 
in  which  the  ordinary  little  two-wheeled  carts, 
which  take  the  place  of  the  ordinary  farmer's 
wagon  in  this  country,  are  decorated.  I  have 
seen  in  Catania  men  at  work  practically  hew- 
ing these  carts  out  of  the  log.  I  do  not  know  to 
what  extent  the  frame  of  the  wagon  is  hewn  out 
in  this  way,  but,  at  any  rate,  the  spokes  are. 
Every  detail  is  worked  out  with  the  greatest 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 


possible  skill,  even  to  the  point  of  carving  little 
figures  or  faces  at  the  ends  of  the  beams  that 
make  the  frames.  Likewise  the  harness  of  the 
donkeys  that  draw  these  carts  Is  an  elaborate 
and  picturesque  affair  which  must  require  a 
vast  amount  of  patience  and  skill  to  make.  The 
point  I  wish  particularly  to  emphasize  here  Is 
that  all  this  skill  In  the  handicrafts,  which  has 
become  traditional  In  a  people,  Is  the  best  kind 
of  preparation  for  every  kind  of  higher  edu- 
cation. In  this  respect  the  Italian,  like  the 
Japanese  and  Chinese,  as  wxll  as  every  other 
race  which  has  had  centuries  of  training  in  the 
handicrafts,  has  an  advantage  over  the  Negro 
that  can  only  be  overcome  when  the  masses  of 
the  Negro  people  have  secured  a  training  of  the 
hand  and  a  skill  in  the  crafts  that  correspond  to 
those  of  other  races. 

Not  only  are  children,  especially  boys,  em- 
ployed at  a  very  early  age  In  all  the  trades  I 
have  mentioned,  but  young  boys  from  fourteen 
to  sixteen  perform,  as  I  have  said,  In  the  mines 
and  elsewhere  an  incredible  amount  of  the  crude, 
rough  work  of  the  community. 

I  remember,  one  day  in  Palermo,  seeing,  for 
the  first  time  in  my  life,  boys,  who  were  certainly 
not  more  than  fourteen  years  of  age,  engaged 
in  carrying  on  their  backs  earth  from  a  cellar 
that  was  being  excavated  for  a  building.     Men 


CHILD  LABOUR  201 

did  the  work  of  digging,  but  the  mere  drudgery 
of  carrying  the  earth  from  the  bottom  of  the 
excavation  to  the  surface  was  performed  by  these 
boys.  It  was  not  simply  the  fact  that  mere 
children  were  engaged  in  this  heavy  work  which 
impressed  me.  It  was  the  slow,  dragging  steps, 
the  fixed  and  unalterable  expression  of  weariness 
that  showed  in  every  line  of  their  bodies.  Later 
I  learned  to  recognize  this  as  the  habitual  man- 
ner and  expression  of  the  carusi,  which  is  the 
name  that  the  Italians  give  to  those  boys  who 
are  employed  in  the  sulphur  mines  to  carry  the 
crude  ore  up  from  the  mines  where  it  is  dug  and 
to  load  it  into  the  cars  by  which  it  is  conveyed  to 
the  surface. 

The  work  in  a  sulphur  mine  is  organized  in 
many  respects,  I  learned,  like  that  of  a  coal 
mine.  The  actual  work  of  digging  the  sulphur 
is  performed  by  the  miner,  who  is  paid  by  the 
amount  of  crude  ore  he  succeeds  in  getting  out. 
He,  in  his  turn,  has  a  man  or  a  boy,  sometimes 
two  or  three  of  them,  to  assist  him  in  getting 
the  ore  out  of  the  mine  to  the  smelter,  where  it 
is  melted  and  refined.  As  I  myself  had  had 
some  experience  as  a  boy  in  work  similar  to 
this  in  the  mines  of  West  Virginia,  I  was  inter- 
ested in  learning  all  I  could  in  regard  to  these 
boys  and  the  conditions  under  which  they 
worked. 


202  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

In  the  case  of  boys  employed  for  this  work, 
the  Sicilians  have  a  custom  of  binding  out  their 
children  to  the  miner,  or  picconiero,  as  he  is 
called.  Such  a  boy  is  then  called,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  country,  a  caruso.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  a  picconiero  who  buys  a  boy  from  his 
parents  to  employ  him  as  a  caruso  actually  pur- 
chases a  slave.  The  manner  in  which  the  pur- 
chase is  made  is  as  follows :  In  Sicily,  where  the 
masses  of  the  people  are  so  wretchedly  poor  in 
everything  else,  they  are  nevertheless  unusually 
rich  in  children,  and,  as  often  happens,  the 
family  that  has  the  largest  number  of  mouths 
to  fill  has  the  least  to  put  in  them.  It  is  from 
these  families  that  the  carusi  are  recruited.  The 
father  who  turns  his  child  over  to  a  miner  re- 
ceives in  return  a  sum  of  money  in  the  form  of  a 
loan.  The  sum  usually  amounts  to  from  eight 
to  thirty  dollars,  according  to  the  age  of  the 
boy,  his  strength  and  general  usefulness.  With 
the  payment  of  this  sum  the  child  is  turned  over 
absolutely  to  his  master.  From  this  slavery 
there  is  no  hope  of  freedom,  because  neither  the 
parents  nor  the  child  will  ever  have  sufficient 
money  to  repay  the  original  loan. 

Strange  and  terrible  stories  are  told  about 
the  way  in  which  these  boy  slaves  have  been 
treated  by  their  masters.  Before  coming  to 
Sicily  I  had  met  and  talked  with  persons  who 


CHILD  LABOUR  203 

described  to  me  the  processions  of  half-naked 
boys,  their  bodies  bowed  under  the  heavy  weight 
of  the  loads  they  carried,  groaning  and  curs- 
ing as  they  made  their  way  up  out  of  the  hot 
and  sulphurous  holes  in  the  earth,  carrying 
the  ore  from  the  mine  to  the  smelter.  All 
that  I  had  heard  elsewhere  was  confirmed  later 
by  the  details  furnished  by  official  reports  and 
special  studies  of  conditions  in  the  mining  re- 
gions, made  at  different  times  and  by  different 
persons.  In  these  reports  I  learned  that  the 
mines  had  been  in  the  past  the  refuge  of  a 
debased  and  criminal  population,  whose  vices 
made  the  bleak,  sulphur-smitten  region  where 
the  mines  are  located  as  much  like  hell  as  it 
looks. 

The  cruelties  to  which  the  child  slaves  have 
been  subjected,  as  related  by  those  w^ho  have 
studied  them,  are  as  bad  as  anything  that  was 
ever  reported  of  the  cruelties  of  Negro  slavery. 
These  boy  slaves  were  frequently  beaten  and 
pinched,  in  order  to  wring  from  their  over- 
burdened bodies  the  last  drop  of  strength  they 
had  in  them.  When  beatings  did  not  suffice,  it 
was  the  custom  to  singe  the  calves  of  their  legs 
with  lanterns  to  put  them  again  on  their  feet. 
If  they  sought  to  escape  from  this  slavery  in 
flight,  they  were  captured  and  beaten,  sometimes 
even  killed. 


204  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

As  they  climbed  out  of  the  hot  and  poisonous 
atmosphere  of  the  mines  their  bodies,  naked  to 
the  waist  and  dripping  with  sweat,  were  chilled 
by  the  cold  draughts  in  the  corridors  leading  out 
of  the  mines,  and  this  sudden  transition  was  the 
frequent  cause  of  pneumonia  and  tuberculosis. 

In  former  years  children  of  six  and  seven 
years  of  age  were  employed  at  these  crushing 
and  terrible  tasks.  Under  the  heavy  burdens 
(averaging  about  forty  pounds)  they  were  com- 
pelled to  carry,  they  often  became  deformed, 
and  the  number  of  cases  of  curvature  of  the 
spine  and  deformations  of  the  bones  of  the  chest 
reported  was  very  large.  More  than  that, 
these  children  were  frequently  made  the  vic- 
tims of  the  lust  and  unnatural  vices  of  their 
masters.  It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that 
they  early  gained  the  appearance  of  gray  old 
men,  and  that  it  has  become  a  common  saying 
that  a  caruso  rarely  reaches  the  age  of  twenty- 
five. 

It  was  with  something  of  all  this  in  my  mind 
that  I  set  out  from  Palermo  a  little  before  day- 
light one  morning  in  September  to  visit  the 
mines  at  Campofranco,  on  the  southern  side 
of  the  island,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Girgenti. 
My  misgivings  were  considerably  increased  when, 
upon  reaching  the  railway  station  to  take  the 
train,  I  found  that  the  guide  and  interpreter 


CHILD  LABOUR  205 

who  had  been  employed  the  night  before  to 
accompany  us  on  the  trip  had  not  made  his 
appearance.  We  waited  until  all  the  porters 
at  the  station  and  the  guards  on  the  train  were 
fairly  in  a  fever  of  excitement  in  their  well-meant 
efforts  to  get  us  and  our  baggage  on  the  train. 
Then,  at  the  last  moment,  w^ith  the  feeling  that 
we  were  taking  a  desperate  chance,  we  scrambled 
aboard  and  started  off  into  a  wild  region,  which 
no  guide-book  had  charted  and,  so  far  as  I  knew, 
no  tourist  had  ever  visited. 

The  train  carried  us  for  some  distance  along 
the  fertile  plain  between  the  sea  and  the  hills. 
It  was  just  possible  to  make  out  in  the  twilight 
of  the  early  morning  the  dim  outlines  of  the 
little  towns  we  passed.  At  length,  just  as  we 
were  able  to  catch  the  first  gleams  of  the  morn- 
ing sun  along  the  crests  of  the  mountains,  the 
railway  turned  abruptly  southward  and  the 
train  plunged  into  a  wide  valley  between  the 
brown  and  barren  hills. 

At  Roccapalumba  we  left  the  main  line  of 
the  railway,  which  turns  eastward  from  there 
in  the  direction  of  Catania,  and  continued  our 
journey  with  the  somewhat  ruder  comforts  of 
an  accommodation  train.  From  this  point  on 
the  way  grew  rougher,  the  country  wilder,  and 
the  only  companions  of  our  journey  were  the 
rude  countr}^  folk,  with  an  occasional  sprinkling 


2o6  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

of  miners.  At  the  little  town  of  Lercara  we 
entered  the  zone  of  the  sulphur  mines.  From 
now  on,  at  nearly  every  station  we  passed,  I  saw 
great  masses  of  the  bright  yellow  substance, 
piled  in  cars,  waiting  to  be  carried  down  to  the 
port  of  Girgenti  for  shipment  to  all  parts  of  the 
world,  and  particularly  to  the  United  States, 
which  is  still  the  largest  market  for  this  Sicilian 
gold. 

The  nearer  the  train  approached  our  desti- 
nation, the  more  uncomfortable  I  grew  about 
the  prospect  that  was  before  us.  I  felt  very  sure 
that  I  should  be  able  to  reach  Campofranco 
and  perhaps  see  something  of  the  mines,  but 
whether  I  should  ever  be  able  to  get  out  again 
and  what  would  become  of  me  if  I  were  com- 
pelled to  seek  shelter  in  some  of  the  unpromising 
places  I  saw  along  the  way  was  very  uncertain. 

Fortunately,  Dr.  Robert  E.  Park,  of  Boston, 
who  was  travelling  w^th  me,  and  who  accom- 
panied me  on  nearly  all  of  my  excursions  of  this 
kind,  was  with  me  on  this  trip.  Doctor  Park 
had  a  pretty  thorough  mastery  of  the  German 
language,  and  could  speak  a  little  French,  but 
no  Italian.  He  had,  however,  an  Italian  gram- 
mar in  his  satchel,  and  when  we  finally  found 
ourselves  at  sea,  in  a  region  where  neither 
English,  German,  nor  French  was  of  any  help 
to  us,  he  took  that  grammar  from  his  satchel 


CHILD  LABOUR  207 

and  set  to  work  to  learn  enough  Italian  between 
Palermo  and  Campofranco  to  be  able  to  make 
at  least  our  most  urgent  wants  known.  For 
four  hours  he  devoted  himself  industriously  to 
the  study  of  that  beautiful  and  necessary  lan- 
guage. It  was  a  desperate  case,  and  I  think  I 
am  safe  in  saying  that  Doctor  Park  studied 
grammar  more  industriously  during  those  four 
hours  than  he  ever  did  before  in  his  life.  At  any 
rate,  by  the  time  the  train  had  crossed  the  rocky 
crest  of  the  mountains  which  divide  the  north 
and  south  sides  of  Sicily,  and  before  we  disem- 
barked at  the  lonesome  little  station  of  Campo- 
franco, he  could  speak  enough  Italian,  mixed 
with  German,  French,  and  English,  to  make  him- 
self understood.  Perhaps  another  reason  for 
Doctor  Park's  success  was  the  fact  that  the  Ital- 
ians understand  the  sign  language  pretty  well. 

The  mines  at  Campofranco  are  on  the  slope 
of  the  mountain,  just  above  the  railway  station. 
A  mile  or  more  across  the  great  empty  valley, 
high  up  on  the  slope  of  the  opposite  mountain, 
is  the  village  from  which  the  mines  get  their 
name,  a  little  cluster  of  low  stone  and  cement 
buildings,  clinging  to  the  mountainside  as  if 
they  were  in  imminent  danger  of  slipping  into 
the  valley  below. 

A  few  hundred  yards  above  the  station 
great  banks  of  refuse  had  been  dumped   into 


2o8  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

the  valley,  and  a  place  levelled  off  on  the  side 
of  the  mountain,  where  the  furnaces  and 
smelters  were  located.  There  were  great  rows 
of  kilns,  like  great  pots,  half  buried  in  the  earth, 
in  which  the  ore  is  melted  and  then  run  off 
into  forms,  where  it  is  cooled  and  allowed  to 
harden. 

I  confess  that  I  had  been  very  dubious  as 
to  the  way  that  we  were  likely  to  be  received 
at  the  mines,  seeing  that  we  did  not  know  the 
customs  nor  the  people,  and  had  very  scant 
supply  of  Italian  in  which  to  make  known  our 
wants.  The  manager,  however,  who  proved 
to  be  a  very  polite  and  dignified  man,  could 
speak  a  little  French  and  some  EngHsh.  He 
seemed  to  take  a  real  pleasure  in  showing  us 
about  the  works.  He  explained  the  methods 
by  which  the  sulphur  was  extracted,  insisted 
upon  our  drinking  a  glass  of  wine,  and  was  even 
kind  enough  to  loan  me  a  horse  and  guide 
when  I  expressed  a  desire  to  rent  one  of  the 
passing  donkeys  to  convey  me  to  some  of  the 
more  inaccessible  places,  farther  up  the  moun- 
tain, where  I  could  see  the  miners  had  burrowed 
into  the  earth  in  search  of  sulphur.  On  the 
vast  slope  of  the  mountain  and  at  a  distance 
they  looked  like  ants  running  in  and  out  of 
little  holes  in  the  earth. 

It  was  at  the  mouth  of  one  of  these  entrances 


CHILD  LABOUR  209 

to  the  mines  that  I  got  my  first  definite  notion 
of  what  sulphur  miners  look  like  —  those  un- 
fortunate creatures  who  wear  out  their  lives 
amid  the  poisonous  fumes  and  the  furnace  heat 
of  these  underground  hells.  There  was  a  rum- 
ble of  a  car,  and  presently  a  man,  almost  stark 
naked,  stepped  out  of  the  dark  passageway.  He 
was  worn,  haggard,  and  gray,  and  his  skin  had 
a  peculiar  grayish-white  tinge.  He  spoke  in  a 
husky  whisper,  but  I  do  not  know  whether  that 
is  one  of  the  characteristic  effects  of  the  work 
in  the  mines  or  not.  I  was  told  that,  in  ad- 
dition to  other  dangers,  the  sulphur  has  a  bad 
effect  upon  the  lungs.  It  was  explained  to  me 
that  the  sulphur  dust  gets  into  the  lungs  and 
clogs  them  up,  and  that  is  what  accounts  for 
the  groans  of  the  carusi,  so  frequently  spoken  of, 
when  they  are  tugging  up  the  steep  and  winding 
passageways  with  the  heavy  burdens  of  crude 
ore  on  their  backs. 

It  had  been  many  years  since  I  had  been  in  a 
mine,  but  as  I  entered  the  dark,  damp  gallery 
and  felt  the  sudden  underground  chill,  the 
memories  of  my  early  experiences  all  came  back 
to  me.  As  we  got  farther  into  the  mine,  how- 
ever, the  air  seemed  to  grow  warmer.  Sud- 
denly a  door  at  the  side  of  the  gallery  opened; 
a  blast  of  hot  air,  like  that  from  a  furnace, 
burst  out  into  the  corridor,  and  another  of  those 


2IO  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

half-naked  men,  dripping  with  perspiration, 
stepped  out. 

We  passed  at  intervals  along  the  main  cor- 
ridor a  number  of  these  doors  which,  as  I  dis- 
covered, led  down  into  parts  of  the  mine  where 
the  men  were  at  work.  It  seemed  incredible 
to  me  that  any  one  could  live  and  work  in  such 
heat,  but  I  had  come  there  to  see  what  a  sul- 
phur mine  was  like,  so  I  determined  to  try  the 
experiment. 

The  side  passage  which  I  entered  was,  in 
fact,  little  more  than  a  burrow,  twisting  and 
winding  its  way,  but  going  constantly  deeper 
and  deeper  into  the  dark  depths  of  the  earth. 
I  had  known  what  it  was  to  work  deep  down 
under  the  earth,  but  I  never  before  so  thoroughly 
realized  what  it  meant  to  be  in  the  bowels  of 
the  earth  as  I  did  while  I  was  groping  my  way 
through  the  dark  and  winding  passages  of  this 
sulphur  mine. 

It  is  down  at  the  bottom  of  these  holes,  and 
in  this  steaming  atmosphere,  that  the  miners 
work.  They  loosen  the  ore  from  the  walls  of 
the  seams  in  which  it  is  found,  and  then  it  is 
carried  up  out  of  these  holes  in  sacks  by  the 
carusi. 

In  the  mine  which  I  visited  the  work  of 
getting  the  ore  to  the  surface  was  performed 
in  a  modern  and  comparatively  humane  way. 


CHILD  LABOUR  211 

It  was  simply  necessary  to  carry  the  ore  from 
the  different  points  where  it  is  mined  to  the  car, 
by  which  it  is  then  transported  to  the  smelter. 
In  those  mines,  however,  where  the  work  is 
still  carried  on  in  the  old,  traditional  fashion, 
which  has  been  in  vogue  as  far  back  as  any  one 
can  remember,  all  the  ore  is  carried  on  the  backs 
of  boys.  In  cases  where  the  mine  descended 
to  the  depth  of  two,  three,  or  four  hundred 
feet,  the  task  of  carr>ang  these  loads  of  ore  to 
the  surface  is  simply  heartbreaking.  I  can 
well  understand  that  persons  who  have  seen 
conditions  at  the  worst  should  speak  of  the 
children  who  have  been  condemned  to  this 
slavery  as  the  most  unhappy  creatures  on  earth. 

From  all  that  I  can  learn,  however,  the  con- 
ditions have  changed  for  the  better  in  recent 
years.  In  1902  a  law  was  passed  which  for- 
bade the  employment  of  children  under  thir- 
teen years  in  underground  work,  and  to  this 
was  added,  a  little  later,  a  provision  which  for- 
bade, after  1905,  the  employment  of  children 
under  fifteen  in  the  mines. 

So  far  as  I  am  able  to  say,  this  provision  was 
carried  out  in  the  mine  I  visited,  for  I  did  not 
see  children  at  work  anywhere  inside  the  mine. 
I  saw  a  number  of  the  poor  little  creatures  at 
work  in  the  dumps  outside  the  mine,  however. 
They  were  carrying  refuse  ore  in  bags  on  their 


212  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

backs,  throwing  it  on  screens,  and  then  loading 
the  finer  particles  back  into  the  cars.  Once 
having  seen  these  gangs  of  boys  at  work,  I 
could  never  mistake  their  slow,  dragging  move- 
ments and  the  expression  of  dull  despair  upon 
their  faces. 

It  is  said  that  the  employment  of  boys  in  the 
sulphur  mines  is  decreasing.  According  to  law, 
the  employment  of  children  under  fifteen  years 
of  age  has  been  forbidden  since  1905.  As  is  well 
known,  however,  in  Italy  as  in  America,  it  is 
much  easier  to  make  laws  than  to  enforce  them. 
This  is  especially  true  in  Sicily.  The  only  fig- 
ures which  I  have  been  able  to  obtain  upon  the 
subject  show  that  from  1880  to  1898  there  was 
an  enormous  increase  in  the  number  of  children 
employed  in  and  about  the  mines.  In  1880 
there  were  2,419  children  under  fifteen  years 
working  there,  among  w^hom  were  eight  girls. 
Of  this  number  88  were  seven  and  163  were 
eight  years  of  age,  while  12  per  cent,  of  the 
whole  number  were  under  nine  years  of  age. 
In  1898,  however,  the  number  of  children  under 
fifteen  years  of  age  was  7,032,  of  whom  5,232 
were  at  work  inside  the  mines.  At  this  time  the 
Government  had  already  attempted  to  put 
some  restrictions  on  the  employment  of  children 
in  the  mines,  but  the  age  limit  had  not  been 
fixed  as  high  as  fifteen  years. 


CHILD  LABOUR  213 

The  sulphur  mines  are  located  on  the  southern 
slopes  of  the  mountains  that  cross  Sicily  from 
east  to  west.  About  ten  miles  below  Campo- 
franco  the  two  branches  of  the  railway,  one 
running  directly  south  from  Roccapalumba, 
and  the  other  running  southwest  from  Calta- 
nisetta,  come  together  a  few  miles  above  Gir- 
genti.  On  the  slopes  of  the  broad  valleys 
through  which  these  two  branches  of  the  railway 
run  are  located  nearly  all  the  sulphur  mines  in 
Sicily.  From  these  mines,  which  furnish  some- 
thing like  70  per  cent,  of  the  world's  supply  of 
sulphur,  a  constant  stream  of  this  yellow  ore 
flows  down  to  the  sea  at  the  port  of  Girgenti. 

After  leaving  Campofranco  I  travelled 
through  this  whole  region.  In  many  places  the 
mountain  slopes  are  fairly  honeycombed  with 
holes  where  the  miners  in  years  past  have  dug 
their  way  into  the  mountain  in  search  of  the 
precious  yellow  mineral.  For  many  miles  in 
every  direction  the  vegetation  has  been  blasted 
by  the  poisonous  smoke  and  vapours  from  the 
smelters,  and  the  whole  country  has  a  blotched 
and  scrofulous  appearance  which  is  depressing 
to  look  upon,  particularly  when  one  considers 
the  amount  of  misery  and  the  number  of  human 
lives  it  has  cost  to  create  this  condition.  I  have 
never  in  my  life  seen  any  place  that  seemed  to 
come   so  near  meeting  the  description  of  the 


214  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

"abomination  of  desolation"  referred  to  in  the 
Bible.  There  is  even  a  certain  grandeur  in  the 
desolation  of  this  country  which  looks  as  if  the 
curse  of  God  rested  upon  it 

I  am  not  prepared  just  now  to  say  to  what 
extent  I  believe  in  a  physical  hell  in  the  next 
world,  but  a  sulphur  mine  in  Sicily  is  about  the 
nearest  thing  to  hell  that  lexpect  to  see  in  this  life. 

As  I  have  already  said,  however,  there  are 
indications  that  in  the  sulphur  mines,  as  else- 
where in  Sicily,  the  situation  of  the  man  farthest 
down  is  improving.  I  pray  God  that  it  is  so, 
for  I  could  not  picture  an  existence  more  miser- 
able than  the  slow  torture  of  this  crushing 
labour  in  the  hot  and  poisonous  air  of  these 
sulphur  mines. 

Let  me  say  also  that  I  came  away  from  the 
sulphur  mines  and  from  Sicily  with  a  very  much 
better  opinion  of  the  people  than  when  I  entered. 
I  went  to  Italy  with  the  notion  that  the  Sicilians 
were  a  race  of  brigands,  a  sullen  and  irritable 
people  who  were  disposed  at  any  moment  to  be 
swept  off  their  feet  by  violent  and  murderous 
passions.  I  came  away  with  the  feeling  that, 
whatever  might  be  the  faults  of  the  masses  of 
the  people,  they  were,  at  the  very  least,  more 
sinned  against  than  sinning,  and  that  they  de- 
serve the  sympathy  rather  than  the  condemna- 
tion of  the  world. 


CHILD  LABOUR  215 

The  truth  Is  that,  as  far  as  my  personal  ex- 
perience goes,  I  was  never  treated  more  kindly 
in  my  whole  life  than  I  was  the  day  when,  com- 
ing as  a  stranger,  without  an  introduction  of 
any  kind,  I  ventured  to  visit  the  region  which 
has  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  wicked, 
and  is  certainly  the  most  unfortunate,  in  Europe. 
I  mean  the  region  around  and  north  of  Girgenti, 
which  is  the  seat  at  once  of  the  sulphur  mines 
and  the  Mafia. 

If  any  one  had  told  me  before  I  went  to  Sicily 
that  I  would  be  willing  to  intrust  my  life  to 
Sicilians  away  down  in  the  darkness  of  a  sulphur 
mine,  I  should  have  believed  that  such  a  person 
had  lost  his  mind.  I  had  read  and  heard  so 
much  of  murders  of  the  Mafia  in  Sicily,  that  for 
a  long  time  I  had  had  a  horror  of  the  name  of 
Sicilians;  but  when  I  came  in  contact  with  them, 
before  I  knew  it,  I  found  myself  trusting  them 
absolutely  to  such  an  extent  that  I  willingly 
followed  them  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth ;  into 
a  hot,  narrow,  dark  sulphur  mine  where,  without 
a  moment's  warning,  they  might  have  demanded 
my  life  or  held  me,  if  they  cared  to,  for  a  ran- 
som. Nothing  of  this  kind  occurred;  on  the 
other  hand,  I  repeat,  every  Sicilian  with  whom  I 
came  in  contact  in  the  sulphur  mine  treated  me  in 
the  most  kindly  manner,  and  I  came  away  from 
their  country  having  the  highest  respect  for  them. 


2i6  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

I  did  not  meet,  while  I  was  there,  a  single 
person,  from  the  superintendent  to  the  lowest 
labourer  at  the  mines,  who  did  not  seem,  not 
only  willing,  but  even  anxious,  to  assist  me  to 
see  and  learn  everything  I  wanted  to  know. 
What  is  more,  Campofranco  was  the  only 
place  in  Europe  where  I  met  men  who  refused 
to  accept  money  for  a  service  rendered  me. 


CHAPTER  XII 

FIUME,   BUDAPEST,  AND  THE  IMMIGRANT 

IT  WAS  a  cold,  cloudy,  windy,  rainy  day  when 
the  little  coasting  vessel  that  was  to  take 
us  across  the  Adriatic  drew  out  from  the 
gray  and  misty  harbour  of  the  ancient  city  of 
Ancona  and  started  in  the  direction  of  Fiume,  the 
single  point  at  which  the  Kingdom  of  Hungary 
touches  the  sea.  I  had  read  of  the  hardships  of 
the  early  immigrants,  and  I  heard  once  an  old 
coloured  man,  who  had  been  carried  to  America 
as  a  slave,  tell  of  the  long  journey  of  himself  and 
some  fifty  others,  all  crowded  together  in  a  little 
sailing  vessel.  It  was  not,  however,  until  this 
trip  of  a  few  hours  on  the  Adriatic  in  a  dirty,  ill- 
smelling  little  vessel  that  I  began  to  understand, 
although  I  had  crossed  the  ocean  several  times, 
how  uncomfortable  a  sea  voyage  might  be. 

Fortunately  the  journey  was  not  a  long  one, 
and  after  the  vessel  found  itself  in  the  shelter  of 
one  of  the  beautiful  green  islands  which  are 
stationed  like  sentinels  along  the  Dalmatian 
coast,  it  was  possible  to  go  on  deck  and  enjoy 
the  view  of  the  rugged  and  broken  coast  line. 

217 


2i8  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

It  was  Indeed  a  splendid  sight,  in  the  clear  light 
of  the  late  afternoon,  to  watch  the  great  blue- 
gray  clouds  roll  up  over  the  green  and  glistening 
masses  of  the  islands,  which  lifted  themselves 
on  every  side  out  of  the  surrounding  sea. 

What  I  had  heard  and  read  of  the  Dalmatian 
coast  had  led  me  to  look  for  the  signs  of  an 
ancient  civilization,  not  unlike  that  which  I  had 
left  in  Italy.  What  impressed  me  at  first  sight 
about  Fiume,  however,  was  the  brand-new  and 
modern  character  of  everything  in  view.  I  do 
not  mean  that  the  city  had  any  of  the  loose- 
jointed  and  straggling  newness  of  some  of  our 
western  American  towns.  It  had  rather  the 
newness  and  completeness  of  one  of  those 
modern  German  cities,  which  seem  to  have  been 
planned  and  erected  out  of  hand,  at  the  com- 
mand of  some  higher  authority.  In  that  part 
of  Germany  which  I  visited  I  noticed  that 
nothing  was  allowed  to  grow  up  naturally,  in  the 
comfortable  and  haphazard  disorder  that  one 
finds  in  some  parts  of  America.  This  is  par- 
ticularly true  of  the  cities.  Everything  is  tagged 
and  labelled,  and  ordered  with  military  pre- 
cision. Even  the  rose-bushes  in  the  gardens 
seem  to  show  the  effect  of  military  discipline. 
Trimmed  and  pruned,  they  stand  up  straight, 
in  long  and  regular  rows,  as  if  they  were  con- 
tinually presenting  arms. 


THE  IMMIGRANT  219 

The  impression  which  I  got  of  modern  Hun- 
gary at  Fiume  was  confirmed  by  what  I  saw  a 
few  days  later  at  Budapest,  the  capital.  There 
was  the  same  air  of  newness  and  novelty,  as  if 
•the  city  had  been  erected  overnight,  and  the 
people  had  not  yet  grown  used  to  it. 

A  little  further  acquaintance  with  the  cities 
of  Fiume  and  Budapest  made  it  plain,  however, 
in  each  case,  that  the  new  city  which  filled  the 
eye  of  the  stranger  had  been,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
built  over,  or,  rather,  added  to,  a  more  ancient 
one. 

In  Fiume,  for  example,  somewhat  hidden 
away  behind  the  new  buildings  which  line  the 
broad  avenue  of  the  modern  Magyar  city,  there 
is  still  preserved  the  outlines  of  the  ancient 
Italian  town,  with  its  narrow,  winding  streets, 
crowded  with  all  the  quaint  and  vivid  life,  the 
petty  traffic,  and  the  varied  human  sights  and 
sounds  with  which  I  had  become  familiar  during 
my  journey  through  Italy. 

So  in  Budapest,  across  the  river  from  the 
modern  Hungarian,  or,  rather,  Magyar  city  of 
Pest,  there  is  the  ancient  German  city  of  Buda, 
with  its  castle  and  palace,  which  dates  back  into 
the  Middle  Ages. 

What  is  still  more  interesting  is  that  in  these 
two  modern  cities  of  Fiume  and  Pest,  in  w^hich 
one  sees  and  feels  the  impress  of  a  strong  and 


220  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

masterful  people,  one  meets  everywhere,  in  the 
midst  of  this  feverish  and  artificial  modern  life, 
evidences  of  the  habit  and  manners  which  belong 
to  an  older  and  simpler  age. 

For  example,  it  struck  me  as  curious  that  in  a 
city  which  is  so  well  provided  with  the  latest 
type  of  electric  street  cars  one  should  see  peasant 
women  trudging  in  from  the  country  with  heavy 
loads  of  vegetables  on  their  backs;  and,  in  a  city 
where  the  Government  is  seeking  to  provide 
modern  houses  for  the  labouring  classes,  with 
all  the  conveniences  that  invention  can  supply, 
one  should  see  these  same  peasant  women  peace- 
fully sleeping  on  the  pavement  or  under  the 
wagons  in  the  public  square,  just  as  they  have 
been  so  long  accustomed  to  sleep,  during  the 
harvest  times,  in  the  open  fields. 

In  the  same  way,  in  another  connection,  it 
seemed  strange  to  read  in  the  report  of  the 
Minister  of  Agriculture  that  an  agricultural 
school  at  Debreczen,  which  had  been  carried  on 
in  connection  with  an  agricultural  college  at  the 
same  place,  had  been  closed  because  "the  pupils 
of  this  school,  being  in  daily  contact  with  the 
first-year  pupils  of  the  college,  boarding  at  the 
Pallag,  attempted  to  imitate  their  ways,  wanted 
more  than  was  necessary  for  their  future  social 
position,  and  at  the  same  time  they  aimed  at  a 
position  they  were  not  able  to  maintain." 


THE  IMMIGRANT  221 

All  this  suggests  and  illustrates  the  rapidity 
with  which  changes  are  going  on  in  Hungary 
and  the  haste  with  which  the  leaders  in  the 
Government  and  in  social  life  are  moving  to 
catch  up  with  and,  if  possible,  get  ahead  of  the 
procession  of  progress  in  the  rest  of  Europe. 

The  trouble  seems  to  be  that  in  Hungary 
progress  has  begun  at  the  top,  with  the  Govern- 
ment, instead  of  at  the  bottom,  with  the  people. 
The  Government,  apparently,  desires  and  hopes 
to  give  the  masses  of  the  people  an  education 
that  will  increase  their  usefulness,  without  at 
the  same  time  increasing  their  wants  and 
stimulating  their  desire  to  rise.  Its  efforts  to 
improve  the  condition  of  the  masses  are  further 
confused  by  a  determination  to  suppress  the 
other  nationalities  and  preserve  the  domination 
of  the  Magyar  race.  In  short,  I  think  I  might 
sum  up  the  situation  by  saying  that  Hungary 
is  trying  the  doubtful  experiment  of  attempting 
to  increase  the  efficiency  of  the  people  without 
giving  them  freedom. 

The  result  is  that  while  the  Government  is 
closing  up  the  schools  because,  as  the  Minister 
of  Agriculture  says,  ''an  important  political 
and  social  principle  is  endangered"  when  stu- 
dents begin  to  hope  and  dream  of  a  higher  and 
better  situation  in  life  than  that  in  which  they 
were  born,  the  masses  of  the  people  are   emi- 


222  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

grating  to  America  in  order  to  better  their  con- 
dition. 

At  Fiume  I  had  an  opportunity  to  study  at 
close  range  what  I  may  call  the  process  of  this 
emigration.  I  had,  in  other  words,  an  oppor- 
tunity to  see  something,  not  merely  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  stream  of  emigration,  flow- 
ing out  from  the  little  inland  villages,  is  collected 
and  cared  for  at  Fiume  until  it  pours  into  and  is 
carried  away  in  the  ships,  but  also  to  get  a  more 
definite  idea  of  the  motives  and  social  forces 
that  are  working  together  to  bring  about  this 
vast  migration  of  the  rural  populations  of  south- 
eastern Europe. 

In  no  country  in  Europe,  not  even  in  Italy, 
has  emigration  been  so  carefully  studied,  and 
in  no  country  has  more  been  done  to  direct  and 
control  emigration  than  in  Hungary.  At  the 
same  time  I  think  it  is  safe  to  say  that  nowhere 
else  has  emigration  brought  so  many  changes  in 
the  political  and  social  life  of  the  people.  At 
one  time,  indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  Hungary  pro- 
posed to  make  emigration  a  state  monopoly. 
This  was  when  the  Government,  in  granting  to 
the  Cunard  Steamship  Company  a  monopoly 
of  the  emigrant  business  at  Fiume,  made  a  con- 
tract to  furnish  that  line  at  least  30,000  emi- 
grants a  year.  At  that  time  there  were  between 
one  hundred  and  two  hundred  thousand  emi- 


THE  IMMIGRANT  223 

grants  leaving  Hungary  every  year,  most  of 
whom  were  making  the  journey  to  America  by 
way  of  the  German  lines  at  Hamburg  and 
Bremen. 

It  is  said  that  the  Hungarian  Government,  in 
order  to  turn  the  tide  of  emigration  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Fiume  and  swell  the  traffic  at  that  port, 
directed  that  all  steamship  tickets  should  be 
sold  by  Government  agents,  who  refused  per- 
mission to  emigrants  to  leave  the  country  by 
other  than  the  Fiume  route. 

Since  then,  however,  Hungary  has,  I  under- 
stand, modified  its  contract  with  the  Cunard 
Company  in  such  a  manner  that  it  does  not 
appear  as  if  the  Government  had  actually  gone 
into  the  business  of  exporting  its  own  citizens, 
and,  instead  of  attempting  to  direct  emigration 
through  Fiume  by  something  amounting  almost 
to  force,  it  has  rather  sought  to  invite  traffic 
by  creating  at  this  post  model  accommodations 
for  emigrants. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  the  Government  has,  as  a 
rule,  attempted  to  discourage  emigration  rather 
than  increase  it.  Where  that  was  not  possible 
it  has  still  tried  to  maintain  its  hold  upon  its 
citizens  in  America;  to  keep  alive  their  interest 
in  their  native  land  and  make  the  emigration, 
as  far  as  possible,  a  temporary  absence,  in  order 
that  the  state   should  not  suffer  a  permanent 


224  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

loss  of  Its  labouring  population,  and  In  order, 
apparently,  that  the  stream  of  gold  which  had 
poured  Into  the  country  as  a  result  of  this 
emigration  might  not  cease. 

The  actual  amount  of  money  which  is  brought 
back  by  returning  emigrants,  or  those  living 
temporarily  In  America,  cannot  be  definitely 
determined.  For  example,  not  less  than  47,000 
emigrants  returned  to  Hungary  in  1907.  It  Is 
estimated,  if  I  remember  rightly,  that  each 
returned  emigrant  brought  home  at  least  ^200, 
while  the  average  immigrant,  not  permanently 
settled  in  America,  sends  back  every  year  about 
^120,  which  is  probably  more  money  than  he 
could  earn  at  home.  In  the  years  1900  to 
1906,  inclusive,  there  was  sent  to  Hungary  by 
money  orders  alone,  ^22,917,566.  In  the  year 
1903  an  official  investigation  shows  that,  in 
addition  to  the  money  which  went  from  America 
in  other  w^ays,  $17,000,000  was  sent  to  Hungary 
through  banks. 

' .?  One  result  of  this  influx  of  money  from  Amer- 
ica has  been  that  the  peasant  has  been  able  to 
gratify  his  passion  to  obtain  for  himself  a  little 
strip  of  land  or  Increase  the  size  of  the  farm 
he  already  possesses.  In  fact,  in  certain 
places  mentioned  by  Miss  Balch  in  her 
book,  '*Our  Slavic  Fellow  Citizen,"  the  de- 
mand for  land  has  been  so  great  that  it  has 


THE  IMMIGRANT  225 

increased  in  value  between  500  and  600  per 
cent.* 

In  one  year,  1903,  according  to  Miss  Balch, 
4,317  emigrants  from  one  county  in  Croatia 
sent  home  ^560,860,  which  is  an  average  of  not 
quite  ^130  per  immigrant.  With  this  money 
4,116  homes  were  bettered,  by  paying  debts, 
buying  more  land,  or  making  improvements. 

These  facts  give,  however,  but  a  small  indica- 
tion of  the  influence  which  immigration  has  had, 
directly  and  indirectly,  upon  the  conditions  of 
life  among  the  masses  of  the  people  in  Hungary 
and  other  portions  of  southeastern  Europe.  For 
one  thing,  in  arousing  the  hopes,  ambitions,  and 
discontent  of  the  so-called  "inferior"  peoples, 
it  has  added  fuel  to  the  racial  conflicts  of  the 
kingdom. 

The  Slovak  or  the  Croatian  who  comes  to 
America  does  not  at  once  lose  his  interest  in  the 
political  and  social  struggles  of  his  native  land. 
On  the  contrary,  in  America,  where  he  has 
opportunity  to  read  newspapers  printed  in  his 
own  language,  and  to  freely  discuss  racial  poli- 
cies in  the  societies  and  clubs  which  have  been 
formed  by  the  diflPerent  nationalities  in  many 
parts  of  the  United  States,  the  average  Slovak 
or  Croatian  in  America  is  likely  to  take  a  more 
intelligent  interest  in  the  struggle  for  national 

•Charities  Publication  Committee,  19 lo. 


226  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

existence  of  his  own  people  than  he  took  at 
home. 

In  the  case  of  members  of  some  of  the  minor 
nationalities  it  has  happened  that,  owing  to  the 
persistence  with  which  the  Hungarian  Govern- 
ment had  discouraged  their  efforts  to  teach  their 
own  languages,  it  is  not  until  they  have  reached 
America  that  they  have  had  opportunity  to  read 
their  mother-tongue. 

Some  indication  of  the  interest  which  the 
different  immigrant  peoples  take  in  the  struggles 
of  the  members  of  their  own  race,  in  their  native 
land,  is  given  by  the  work  which  several  of  these 
nationalist  societies  are  doing  in  America.  The 
National  Slavonic  Society  organizes  political 
meetings,  raises  funds  for  Slovak  political  pris- 
oners in  Hungary,  and  scatters  Slovak  literature 
for  the  purpose  of  arousing  sympathy  and  in- 
terest in  the  Slovak  cause. 

In  his  book,  ''Racial  Problems  in  Hungary," 
Seton-Watson,  who  has  made  a  special  study 
of  the  condition  of  the  Slovaks,  says : 

"The  returned  Slovak  emigrants  who  have  saved  money 
in  the  United  States  are  steadily  acquiring  small  holdings  in 
Hungary,  and  helping  to  propagate  ideas  of  freedom  and 
nationality  among  their  neighbours.  .  .  .  They  speedily 
learn  to  profit  by  the  free  institutions  of  their  adopted  country, 
and  to-day  the  400,000  Slovaks  of  America  possess  a  national 
culture  and  organization  which  present  a  striking  contrast  to 
the  cramped  development  of  their  kinsmen  in  Hungary.     There 


^HE  IMMIGRANT  227 

are  more  Slovak  newspapers  in  America  than  in  Hungary; 
but  the  Magyars  seek  to  redress  the  balance  by  refusing  to 
deliver  these  American  journals  through  the  Hungarian  post- 
office.  Everywhere  among  the  emigrants,  leagues,  societies, 
and  clubs  flourish  undisturbed;  .  .  .  these  societies  do  all 
in  their  power  to  awaken  Slovak  sentiment,  and  contribute 
materially  to  the  support  of  the  Slovak  press  in  Hungary.* 

Seton-Watson  adds  that  "the  independence 
and  confidence  of  the  returned  emigrants  are  in 
striking  contrast  with  the  pessimism  and  pas- 
sivity of  the  elder  generation."  It  is  for  this 
reason,  perhaps,  that  the  Magyars,  who  rep- 
resent the  "superior  race"  in  Hungary,  say  that 
"America  has  spoiled  the  Slovak  emigrant." 

In  travelling  across  Hungary  from  Fiume 
to  Budapest,  and  thence  to  Cracow,  Poland, 
I  passed  successively  through  regions  and  dis- 
tricts inhabited  by  many  different  racial  types, 
but  I  think  I  gained  a  more  vivid  notion  of  the 
strange  mixture  of  races  which  make  up  the 
population  of  the  Dual  Monarchy  from  what 
I  saw  in  Fiume  than  in  any  other  part  of  the 
country.  In  Budapest,  which  is  the  great 
melting  pot  of  the  races  in  Hungary,  there  is 
much  the  same  uniformity  in  the  dress  and 
manners  of  the  different  races  that  one  meets 
in  any  other  large  and  cosmopolitan  city. 
Fiume,  on  the  contrary,  has  a  much  larger 
number  of  people  who  seem  to  be  still  in  touch 

•Quoted  by  Miss  Balch  in  "Our  Slavic  Fellow  Citizens,"  p.  ii6. 


228  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

with  the  customs  and  life  of  their  native  vil- 
lages, and  have  not  yet  learned  to  be  ashamed 
to  wear  the  quaint  and  picturesque  costumes 
of  the  regions  to  which  they  belong. 

Among  the  most  striking  costumes  which  I 
remember  to  have  seen  were  those  of  the  Mon- 
tenegrin traders,  with  their  red  caps,  embroid- 
ered vests,  and  the  red  sashes  around  their 
waists,  which  made  them  look  like  brigands. 
After  these,  perhaps  the  most  picturesque 
costumes  which  I  saw  were  worn  by  a  troop  of 
Dalmatian  girls,  the  most  striking  feature  of 
whose  costume  was  the  white  woollen  leggings, 
tied  at  the  knee  with  ribbons.  One  figure  in 
particular  that  I  recall  was  that  of  a  little 
woman  striding  through  the  streets  of  Fiume, 
driving  a  little  train  of  beautiful  cream-coloured 
oxen. 

All  these  distinctions  of  costume  emphasized 
each  other  by  contrast,  and  as  they  each  signified 
differences  in  traditions,  prejudices,  and  pur- 
poses of  the  people  to  whom  they  belonged,  they 
gave  one  a  sort  of  picture  of  the  clash  of  races 
in  this  strange  and  interesting  country. 

Even  among  those  races  which  are  no  longer 
divided  by  costume  and  habits,  racial  dis- 
tinctions seem  to  be  more  clearly  drawn  than 
at  Budapest.  For  example,  to  a  large  extent 
the  business  of  the  city  seems  to  be  monop- 


THE  IMMIGRANT  229 

ollzed  by  Germans  and  Jews.  The  Govern- 
ment officials  are  Magyars,  but  the  bulk  of  the 
population  are  Italians  and  Croatians.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  there  are  three  distinct  cities, 
which  commonly  go  under  the  name  of  Fiume. 
There  is  the  modern  city,  with  its  opera  house, 
its  handsome  official  buildings,  which  is  Magyar; 
the  elder  city,  with  its  narrow,  gossiping  streets 
and  Roman  triumphal  arch,  which  is  Italian, 
and,  finally,  just  across  the  canal,  or  '^  fiume," 
which  seems  to  have  given  the  name  to  the 
city,  is  a  handsome  new  Croatian  town  which  is 
officially  distinct  from  the  rest  of  the  city, 
having  its  own  mayor  and  town  officials. 

Fiume  itself  has  an  exceptional  position  in 
the  Kingdom  of  Hungary.  It  is  what  was 
known  in  the  Middle  Ages  as  a  "free  city," 
with  a  governor  and  representatives  in  the  Hun- 
garian Parliament.  The  mayor,  I  understand, 
however,  is  an  Italian,  who  has  married  a  Croa- 
tian wife.  This  alliance  of  two  races  in  one 
family  seems  to  have  a  certain  advantage  in 
the  rather  tumultuous  politics  of  the  city,  for 
I  was  told  that  when  the  Croatians,  as  some- 
times happens,  go  to  the  mayor's  house  in  pro- 
cession, with  their  grievances,  the  mayor's  wife 
has  been  able  to  help  her  husband  by  addressing 
her  own  people  in  their  native  language. 

The  most  interesting  thing  I  saw  in  Fiume, 


230  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

however,  was  the  immense  emigration  building, 
which  has  accommodations,  as  I  remember,  for 
something  like  3,000  emigrants.  Here  are  the 
offices  of  the  Hungarian  emigration  officials, 
and  in  this  same  building  are  received  and 
cared  for,  until  the  next  succeeding  sailing,  the 
accumulations  of  the  stream  of  emigration  which 
flows  steadily  out  at  this  port  from  every  part 
of  the  kingdom. 

Here  the  emigrants,  after  they  have  been 
medically  examined,  given  a  bath  and  their 
clothes  disinfected,  are  detained  until  the  time 
of  embarkation.  In  company  with  United 
States  Consul  Slocum,  from  whom  I  received 
much  valuable  information,  I  visited  the  emi- 
gration building  and  spent  a  large  part  of  one 
day  looking  into  the  arrangements  and  talking, 
through  an  interpreter,  with  emigrants  from 
different  parts  of  the  country  who  were  waiting 
there  to  embark. 

Under  his  guidance  I  inspected  the  barracks, 
furnished  with  rows  upon  rows  of  double-decked 
iron  beds,  observed  the  machinery  for  disin- 
fecting the  clothing  of  emigrants,  visited  the 
kitchen,  tasted  the  soup,  and  finally  saw  all 
the  different  nationalities  march  in  together  to 
dinner,  the  women  in  one  row  and  the  men  in 
another.  The  majority  of  them  were  of  Mag- 
yar nationality;  good,  wholesome,  sturdy,  and 


THE  IMMIGRANT  231 

thrifty  people  they  seemed.  They  were  from 
the  country  districts.  Some  of  them  were 
persons  of  property,  who  were  going  to  America 
to  earn  enough  money  to  pay  off  mortgages 
with  which  their  lands  were  burdened.  Very 
many  of  them  had  relatives,  a  brother,  a  sister, 
or  a  husband  already  in  America,  and  they 
seemed  .to  be  very  well  informed  about  con- 
ditions in  the  new  country  where  they  were 
going. 

The  two  most  interesting  figures  that  I  noticed 
among  the  intended  emigrants  were  a  tall, 
pallid,  and  barefooted  girl,  with  rather  delicate 
and  animated  features,  and  a  man  in  a  linen 
blouse  which  hung  down  to  his  knees,  his 
feet  and  legs  incased  in  a  kind  of  moccason, 
surmounted  with  leggings,  bound  with  leather 
thongs.  The  girl  was  a  Ruthenian,  who  was 
going  to  meet  relatives  in  America.  The  man, 
whom  I  noticed  looking,  with  what  seemed  to 
me  rather  envious  interest  and  curiosity,  at  a 
pair  of  American  shoes  on  sale  at  one  of  the 
booths  in  the  big  common  hall,  was  a  Rou- 
manian. 

Two  of  the  emigrants  with  whom  I  talked 
had  been  in  America  before.  One  of  these, 
who  understood  a  little  English,  seemed  to  be 
a  leader  among  the  others.  When  I  asked  him 
the  reason  why  he  was  going  back  to  America 


232  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

he  spoke  quite  frankly  and  disparagingly  about 
conditions  in  the  old  country. 

He  said  it  was  not  so  much  the  wages  that 
led  people  to  emigrate,  though  they  were  small 
enough.  But  the  worst  of  it  was  that  there 
were  long  intervals  when  it  was  not  possible 
to  get  any  work.  Besides  that,  the  taxes  were 
high. 

"And  then,"  he  added,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders and  throwing  out  his  arm  with  a  gesture 
of  impatience,  ''it  is  too  tight  here." 

I  suspect  that  this  expresses  the  feeling  of 
a  good  many  emigrants  who,  returning  to  their 
native  country,  have  emigrated  a  second  time. 
They  have  found  things  in  the  old  country 
"too  tight"  for  comfort.  There  is  still  room  in 
America  for  people  to  spread  out,  and  grow  and 
find  out  for  themselves  what  they  are  capable 
of.  As  long  as  people  find  things  "too  tight" 
they  will  move  on.  The  plant  stretches  always 
toward  the  light.    • 

Among  the  emigrants  with  whom  I  had  an 
opportunity  to  talk  was  a  group  of  Roumanians 
who  had  come  up  from  Transylvania,  or  Sieben- 
biirgen,  as  they  called  it.  They  were  a  dark, 
silent  sort  of  people,  who  hung  very  closely  to- 
gether and  looked  at  us  out  of  the  corners  of 
their  eyes.  When  I  sought  to  talk  with  them 
they  seemed  indisposed  to  answer  my  questions, 


THE  IMMIGRANT  233 

and  finally  one  of  them  told  the  Interpreter 
that  they  had  been  instructed  not  to  talk  with 
any  one  until  they  reached  America. 

Considering  the  elaborate  regulations  which 
their  Government  has  imposed  upon  people 
seeking  to  leave  Hungary,  and  the  still  more 
elaborate  regulations  which  our  Government 
has  imposed  upon  people  seeking  to  enter  the 
United  States,  this  did  not  particularly  sur- 
prise me. 

Since  these  people  were  Roumanians,  or 
Wallachs,  from  Siebenbiirgen,  they  may  have 
had  other  reasons  for  not  telling  why  they  were 
leaving  the  country.  The  Roumanians,  al- 
though they  proudly  claim  descent  from  the 
Roman  conquerors  of  this  part  of  the  world, 
are,  nevertheless,  classed  among  the  "inferior," 
as  they  are,  in  fact,  among  the  most  ignorant, 
races  in  Hungary.  As  they  have  been  partic- 
ularly persistent  in  advertising  their  wrongs  to 
the  rest  of  Europe,  and  have  been  frequently 
punished  for  it,  they  may,  perhaps,  have  learned 
that  silence  is  golden,  particularly  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Magyar  officials. 

When  in  Vienna  I  was  seeking  for  Infor- 
mation that  would  help  me  to  understand  the 
racial  situation  in  the  Dual  Monarchy,  I  found 
that  one  of  the  most  learned  and  brilliant 
writers  on  that  subject  was  a  Roumanian  who. 


234  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

while  he  was  a  student  in  a  Roumanian  academy 
in  1892,  had  been  arrested  with  other  students 
and  condemned  to  four  years'  imprisonment 
for  writing  and  circulating  a  pamphlet  in  which 
were  enumerated  "acts  of  violence"  committed 
against  the  other  races  of  Hungary  by  the 
"superior"  Magyars. 

The  superiority  of  the  dominant  race  seems, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  to  be  the  foundation  stone 
of  the  political  policy  of  the  present  govern- 
ment in  Hungary.  In  the  last  analysis  it  seems 
to  be  the  major  premise,  so  to  speak,  of  every 
argument  which  I  happen  to  have  heard  or 
read  in  justification  of  the  policy  which  the 
Government  has  pursued  in  reference  to  the 
other  races  of  the  monarchy.  In  fact,  the 
"superiority  of  the  Magyar"  race  is  responsible 
for  most  that  is  good  and  evil  in  the  history 
of  Hungary  for  the  past  seventy  years.  It 
seems,  for  example,  to  have  been  the  chief  source 
of  inspiration  for  the  heroic  struggle  against 
Austria  which  began  in  1848  and  ended  with 
the  independence  of  Hungary  in  1867.  It 
seems,  also,  to  have  been  the  goad  which  has 
spurred  on  the  impatient  leaders  of  modern 
Hungary  in  their  hurry  to  overtake  and  sur- 
pass the  progress  of  civilization  in  the  rest  of 
Europe. 

Unfortunately  the  ambition  and  success  of 


THE  IMMIGRANT  235 

the  Magyars  in  their  effort  to  gain  their  political 
independence  and  preserve  their  peculiar  racial 
type  from  being  lost  and  swallowed  up  by  the 
other  and  "inferior"  peoples  by  whom  it  is 
surrounded  have  encouraged  every  other  na- 
tionality in  a  similar  desire  and  determination. 

"If  it  is  good  for  the  Magyars  to  preserve 
their  language,  customs,  and  racial  traditions," 
say  the  other  races,  in  effect,  "why  is  it  not  just 
as   important  for  us  that  we  preserve  ours?" 

The  reply  of  the  Magyars  is,  in  effect:  "You 
have  no  language,  no  history,  no  tradition  worth 
keeping.     In  short,  you  are  an  inferior  race." 

Naturally  the  argument  does  not  end  there. 
The  other  nationalities  reply  by  founding 
national  schools  and  colleges  to  study  and  pre- 
serve their  peculiar  language,  traditions,  and 
customs,  while  these  nationalities  who  have 
previously  had  no  history  proceed  to  make 
some.  Thus  the  doctrine  of  superiority  of  the 
Magyar  race,  which  has  been  so  valuable  in 
stimulating  the  Magyars  to  heroic  efforts  in 
behalf  of  their  own  race,  seems  to  have  been 
just  as  valuable  in  stinging  into  life  the  racial 
pride  and  loyalty  of  the  other  races.  And  thus, 
on  the  whole,  in  spite  of  its  incidental  cruelties, 
the  conflict  of  the  races  in  Hungary,  like  the 
struggle  of  the  white  and  black  races  in  the 
South,  seems  to  have  done  less  harm  than  good. 


236  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

At  least  this  Is  true  so  far  as  it  concerns  the 
races  which  are  down  and  are  struggling  up,  be- 
cause oppression,  which  frequently  stimulates 
the  individual  or  the  race  which  suffers  from  it, 
invariably  injures  most  the  individual  or  the  race 
which  inflicts  it. 

Most  of  the  "acts  of  violence"  of  which  the 
subordinate  nations  complain  are  committed 
in  the  name  of  what  is  known  as  the  "Magyar 
State  Idea,"  which  seems  to  be  little  more,  how- 
ever, than  the  idea  that  the  Magyars  must  dom- 
inate, although  they  represent  but  51  per  cent, 
of  the  population  in  Hungary  proper  and  45  per 
cent,  of  the  total  population,  including  that  of 
the  annexed  territory,  Croatia-Slavonia. 

So  far  is  the  Magyar  race  identified  with  the 
Government  in  Hungary  that  it  is  punished  as 
a  kind  of  treason  to  say  anything  against  the 
Magyars.  Most  of  the  persons  who  are  per- 
secuted for  political  crimes  in  Hungary  seem  to 
be  charged  either  with  panslavism,  which  is 
usually  little  more  than  a  desire  of  the  Slavs 
to  preserve  their  own  national  existence,  or 
with  "incitement  against  the  Magyar  nation- 
ality." 

On  the  part  of  the  Magyars  it  does  not  seem 
to  be  any  crime  to  speak  disrespectfully,  or 
even  contemptuously,  of  the  other  races.  I 
have   observed   that   those   writers   who   have 


THE  IMMIGRANT  237 

sought  to  defend  the  "Magyar  State  Idea" 
refer  quite  frankly  to  the  Roumanians  and  the 
Slovaks  as  "inferior  races,"  who  are  not  com- 
petent to  govern  themselves. 

There  is,  likewise,  a  saying  among  the  Magyars 
to  the  effect  that  "a  Slovak  is  not  a  human  be- 
ing," a  notion  that  seems  to  spring  up  quite 
naturally  in  the  mind  of  any  race  which  has 
accustomed  itself  to  the  slavery  and  oppression 
of  another  race. 

It  is,  however,  all  the  more  curious  that  such 
a  saying  should  gain  currency  in  Hungary  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  Kossuth,  the  great  national 
hero  of  Hungary,  was  himself  a  Slovak. 

One  hears  strange  stories  in  Hungary  of  the 
methods  which  the  dominant  race  has  employed 
to  hold  the  other  races  in  subjection.  For  ex- 
ample, in  the  matter  of  elections,  bribery,  in- 
timidation, and  all  the  other  familiar  methods 
for  exploiting  the  vote  of  ignorant  and  simple- 
minded  people  are  carried  on  in  a  manner  and 
to  an  extent  which  recalls  the  days  of  Recon- 
struction in  the  Southern  States. 

In  order  to  maintain  the  superior  race  in 
power,  newspapers  arc  suppressed,  schools  are 
closed  and  the  moneys  for  their  support,  which 
have  been  collected  for  educational  purposes, 
are  confiscated  by  the  Government. 

As   an  illustration  of  the   lengths   to  which 


238  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

Hungary  has  gone  in  order  to  maintain  Magyar 
domination,  it  is  said  that  when  the  CathoHc 
clergy,  seeing  the  ravages  which  drink  had  made 
among  Slovaks,  attempted  to  organize  temper- 
ance societies  among  them,  the  Government 
suppressed  these  organizations  on  the  ground 
that  they  tended  to  foster  the  sentiment  of 
panslavism  and  so  were  in  opposition  to  the 
"Magyar  State  Idea."  It  is  known,  however, 
that  the  chief  complaints  against  these  societies 
were  from  liquor  dealers. 

Apparently  it  is  just  as  easy  in  Hungary  as 
in  America  for  selfish  persons  to  take  advantage 
of  racial  predjuice  and  sentiment  in  order  to 
use  it  for  their  own  ends.  In  fact,  all  that  I 
saw  and  learned  in  regard  to  the  relation  of  the 
races  in  Hungary  served  to  show  me  that  racial 
hatred  works  in  much  the  same  way,  whether 
it  exists  among  people  of  the  same  colour  but 
different  speech,  or  among  people  of  different 
colour  and  the  same  speech. 

If  there  are  some  points  in  which  the  re- 
lations of  the  races  in  Hungary  and  the  United 
States  are  similar,  there  are  others  in  which 
they  differ.  While  Hungary  is  seeking  to 
solve  its  racial  problem  by  holding  down  the 
weaker  races  and  people,  America  is  seeking  to 
accomplish  the  same  result  by  lifting  them  up. 
In  Hungary  every  effort  seems  to  be  made  to 


THE  IMMIGRANT 

compel  the  so-called  'inferior  race"  to  give  up 
their  separate  language,  to  forget  their  national 
history,  traditions,  and  civilization — everything, 
in  fact,  which  might  inspire  them,  as  a  people, 
with  a  desire  or  a  proper  ambition  to  win  for 
themselves  a  position  of  respect  and  considera- 
tion in  the  civilized  world. 

In  America,  on  the  contrary,  each  race  and 
nationality  is  encouraged  to  cultivate  and  take 
pride  in  everything  that  is  distinctive  or  pe- 
culiar, either  in  its  traditions,  racial  traits,  or 
disposition.  I  think  I  am  safe  in  saying  that 
there  is  no  country  in  the  world  where  so  many 
different  races  of  such  different  colours,  habits, 
and  traditions  live  together  in  such  peace  and 
harmony  as  is  true  in  the  United  States.  One 
reason  for  this  is  that  there  is  no  other  country 
where  ''the  man  farthest  down"  has  more 
opportunity  or  greater  freedom  than  in  the 
United  States. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW 

EVER  since  I  can  remember  I  have  had  a 
special  and  peculiar  interest  in  the 
history  and  the  progress  of  the  Jewish 
race.  The  first  book  that  I  knew,  the  Bible, 
was  a  history  of  the  Jews,  and  to  my  childish 
mind  the  most  fascinating  portion  of  that  book 
was  the  story  of  the  manner  in  which  Moses 
led  the  children  of  Israel  out  of  the  house  of 
bondage,  through  the  wilderness,  into  the 
promised  land.  I  first  heard  that  story  from 
the  lips  of  my  mother,  when  both  she  and  I  were 
slaves  on  a  plantation  in  Virginia.  I  have 
heard  it  repeated  and  referred  to  many  times 
since.  In  fact,  I  am  certain  that  there  is  hardly 
a  day  or  a  week  goes  by  that  I  do  not  meet 
among  my  people  some  reference  to  this  same 
Bible  story. 

The  Negro  slaves  were  always  looking  for- 
ward to  the  time  when  a  Moses  should  arise 
from  somewhere  who  would  lead  them,  as  he 
led  the  ancient  Hebrews,  out  of  the  house  of 
bondage.     And   after  freedom,    the   masses   of 

240 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW       241 

the  Negro  people  have  still  continued  to  look 
to  some  great  leader,  some  man  inspired  of  God, 
who  would  lead  them  out  of  their  difficulties 
into  the  promised  land,  which,  somehow,  they 
never  seem  able  to  reach. 

As  I  learned  in  slavery  to  compare  the  condition 
of  the  Negro  with  that  of  the  Jews  in  bondage 
in  Egypt,  so  I  have  frequently,  since  freedom, 
been  compelled  to  compare  the  prejudice,  even 
persecution,  which  the  Jewish  people  have  to 
face  and  overcome  in  different  parts  of  the 
world  with  the  disadvantages  of  the  Negro  in 
the  United  States  and  elsewhere. 

I  had  seen  a  good  deal  of  the  lower  classes  of 
the  Jews  in  New  York  City  before  going  to 
Europe,  and  when  I  visited  Whitechapel,  Lon- 
don, I  had  an  opportunity  to  learn  something  of 
the  condition  of  the  Polish  and  Russian  Jews 
who,  driven  from  their  native  land,  have  found 
refuge  in  England.  It  was  not  until  I  reached 
Cracow,  in  Austrian  Poland,  or  Galicia,  how- 
ever, that  I  really  began  to  understand  what  life 
in  the  Ghetto,  of  which  I  had  heard  so  much, 
was  really  like.  It  was  not  until  then  that  I 
began  to  comprehend  what  the  wear  and  tear 
of  centuries  of  persecution,  poverty,  and  suffer- 
ing had  meant  in  the  life  of  the  Jews. 

One  of  the  first  things  I  observed  in  regard  to 
the  Jews  abroad  was  the  very  different  forms 


^        242  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

which  racial  prejudice  takes  in  the  diflFerent 
countries  that  I  visited.  For  example,  in 
East  London,  which  has  long  been  the  refuge 
for  the  poor  and  oppressed  of  other  countries, 
the  Jew  is  tolerated,  although  he  is  not  liked. 
It  is  not  clear  just  what  is  the  source  of  the 
English  prejudice.  Complaint  is  sometimes 
made  that  the  Jewish  immigrant  has  driven  out 
the  native  Briton  from  certain  parts  of  East 
London,  but  it  is  admitted  at  the  same  time 
that  in  such  cases  it  is  because  the  Jew  has 
proven  a  better  tenant.  He  does  not  drink,  he 
is  law-abiding,  and  he  pays  his  rent  regularly. 
It  seems  to  be  true  in  London,  also,  as  it  is  in 
New  York,  that  as  soon  as  the  Jewish  immigrant 
has  made  a  little  success  he  does  not  remain  in 
the  same  quarter  of  the  city.  He  soon  moves 
out  and  his  place  is  taken  by  some  new  and  half- 
starved  fugitive  from  Russia  or  Roumania,  so 
that  there  is  a  constant  stream  of  ''greeners,"  as 
they  are  called,  coming  in,  and  another,  per- 
haps somewhat  smaller,  stream  of  those  who 
have  been  successful  moving  out.  In  spite  of  this 
fact,  it  is  generally  admitted  that  general  con- 
ditions have  improved  under  the  influence  of 
the  Jews.  English  prejudice  where  it  exists 
seems  to  be  due,  therefore,  partly  to  economic 
causes  and  partly  to  the  general  distrust  of  the 
alien  that  seems  to  be  gaining  in  England  with 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW        243 

the  influx  of  immigration  from  southern  Europe. 
In  Denmark,  on  the  contrary,  where  the  Jews 
seem  to  be  very  largely  represented  among  the 
educated  and  well-to-do  classes,  I  discovered  a 
great  deal  of  prejudice  against  the  Germans 
but  almost  none  against  the  Jews.  In  fact, 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  men  in  Denmark, 
outside  of  the  King,  a  man  who  has  been  a 
leader  in  the  intellectual  life  of  that  country 
during  the  past  thirty  years,  Prof.  Georg 
Brandes,  is  a  Jew. 

In  Germany  I  learned  that,  while  the  Jews 
are  prominent  not  only  in  business  but  in  the 
professions,  it  was  still  difficult  for  them  to  rise 
in  the  army  or  to  advance  to  the  position  of 
professor  in  the  universities,  unless  they  have 
first  been  baptized. 

In  speaking  about  this  matter  to  a  German 
whom  I  met  at  one  of  the  hotels  in  Vienna,  I 
called  to  mind  the  name  of  a  distinguished  pro- 
fessor whose  name  I  had  heard  as  an  instance  of 
a  Jew  gaining  a  high  position  in  a  German  uni- 
versity. 

"Oh,  well,"  he  replied, ''he  has  been  baptized." 

That  recalls  to  my  mind  a  conundrum  which 
an  acquaintance  proposed  while  we  were  dis- 
cussing some  of  the  peculiarities  of  race  preju- 
dice in  Europe. 

"When  is  a  Jew  not  a  Jew.^"  he  asked.     The 


1/ 


244  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

answer  Is  of  course,  "When  he  is  a  Christian." 
In  other  words,  prejudice  in  Germany  seems 
to  be  directed  only  against  the  Jew  who  clings 
to  his  religion. 

When  I  reached  Prague  in  Bohemia  I  learned 
that  among  the  masses  of  the  people  there  is 
little  distinction  made  between  Jews  and  Ger- 
mans, since  both  speak  the  same  language,  and 
the  Czechs,  confusing  the  one  with  the  other, 
hate  both  with  a  double  hatred,  first,  for  what 
they  are,  and  then  for  what  they  seem  to  be. 

In  Vienna  and  Budapest  the  Jews,  through 
the  newspapers  which  they  control,  seem  to 
exercise  a  powerful  influence  on  politics.  I 
remember  hearing  repeated  references  while  I 
was  there  to  the  "Jewish  press."  In  Prague 
it  is  said  that  every  German  paper  but  one  is 
controlled  by  Jews.  Jews  are  represented,  how- 
ever, not  only  in  the  press  in  Austria-Hungary, 
but  in  the  army  and  in  all  the  other  professions. 
They  are  not  only  financiers  and  business  men, 
but  doctors,  lawyers,  artists,  and  actors,  as 
elsewhere  in  Europe  where  they  have  gained 
their  freedom.  Nevertheless  it  is  still  against 
the  law  for  Jews  and  Christians  to  intermarry 
in  Austria-Hungary. 

I  have  referred  at  some  length  to  the  con- 
dition of  the  Jews  in  other  parts  of  Europe  where 
they  have  profited  by  the  social  and  political 


i/ 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW        245 

freedom  which  was  granted  them  in  the  course 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  because  their  prog- 
ress there  is  in  such  striking  contrast  with  their 
condition  as  I  saw  it  in  and  around  Cracow, 
in  Galicia;  as  it  is,  also,  just  across  the  borders 
of  Austria-Hungary,  in  Russian  Poland  and 
Roumania,  and  as  it  seems  to  have  been  in 
other  parts  of  Europe  seventy-five  or  a  hundred 
years  ago,  before  the  gates  of  the  Ghetto  were 
opened  and  the  inhabitants  emancipated. 

Some  notion  of  the  conditions  under  which 
the  Jews  lived,  in  almost  every  part  of  Europe, 
a  hundred  years  ago,  may  be  gathered  from  the 
restrictions  which  are  imposed  upon  them  to-day 
in  Russia  and  Roumania.  In  Roumania  a  Jew 
can  neither  vote  nor  hold  office  in  the  civil 
service.  He  is  excluded  from  the  professions; 
he  is  not  permitted,  for  example,  to  become  a 
physician  or  even  open  a  pharmacy;  he  is  not 
permitted  to  live  in  the  rural  districts;  he  may 
neither  own  land  outside  of  the  town  nor  work 
as  an  agricultural  labourer.  In  the  mills  and 
factories  not  more  than  25  per  cent,  of  the  em- 
ployees may  be  Jews.  Although  they  are 
practically  restricted  to  business  enterprises, 
Jews  may  not  become  members  of  chambers  of 
commerce.  Jews  are  bound  to  serve  in  the 
army,  they  pay  heavier  taxes,  proportionately, 
than  other  portions  of  the  community,  but  they 


246  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

are  classed  under  the  laws  as  "aliens  not  sub- 
ject to  alien  protection." 

In  Russia,  Jews  are  not  allowed  to  live  out- 
side of  what  Is  called  the  '^Pale  of  Settlement," 
which  includes  twelve  provinces  on  the  western 
and  southwestern  borders  which  Russia  has 
annexed  during  the  past  two  hundred  years. 
Only  merchants  who  pay  a  special  license  of 
I, GOO  rubles,  or  about  5^500,  university  gradu- 
ates, and  a  few  others  may  live  outside  the 
pale.  A  Jew  Is  not  even  permitted  to  live  In 
Siberia  unless  he  has  been  sent  there  in  punish- 
ment for  crime. 

Inside  the  pale,  Jews  are  not  allowed  to  live 
outside  the  cities  and  incorporated  towns.  Al- 
though Jews  are  allowed  to  vote  in  Russia  and 
send  representatives  to  the  Duma,  they  are  not 
permitted  to  hold  office  or  to  be  employed  in  the 
public  service.  They  are  compelled  to  pay  in 
addition  to  the  ordinary  taxes,  which  are  heavy 
enough,  taxes  on  the  rents  they  receive  from 
property  owned  by  them,  or  inheritances,  on 
the  meat  killed  according  to  the  Jewish  law, 
on  candles  used  in  some  of  their  religious  ob- 
servances, and  on  the  skull  caps  they  wear  dur- 
ing religious  services.  In  spite  of  this  they  are 
excluded  from  hospitals,  schools,  and  public 
functions,  which.  In  the  pale,  are  mainly  paid 
for  out  of  the  extra  taxes  imposed  upon  them. 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW        247 

The  most  singular  thing  about  it  all  is  that 
the  disabilities  under  which  the  Russian  Jew 
now  labours  are  at  once  removed  by  baptism. 
Not  only  that,  but  every  Jew  who  allows  him- 
self to  be  sprinkled  with  holy  water,  in  sign 
of  the  renunciation  of  his  religion  and  his  people, 
receives  thirty  rubles,  "thirty  pieces  of  silver," 
as  a  reward. 

The  Jews  whom  I  saw  in  Galicia  are  not  sub- 
ject to  any  of  the  medieval  restrictions  which 
are  imposed  upon  members  of  their  race  in 
Russia  and  Roumania.  They  enjoy,  in  fact, 
all  the  political  rights  of  other  races.  Never- 
theless, Jews  in  Galicia  are  said  to  be  poorer  than 
they  are  in  some  parts  of  Russian  Poland,  al- 
though very  much  better  off  than  in  some  parts 
of  southern  Russia. 

Elsewhere  in  Europe,  where  they  have  had 
their  freedom,  Jews  are  as  a  rule  more  prosperous 
than  the  people  by  whom  they  are  surrounded. 
In  Berlin,  Germany,  for  instance,  where  Jew^s 
represent  4.88  per  cent,  of  the  total  population, 
15  per  cent,  of  those  who  had  an  income  of 
1,500  marks,  or  more,  were  Jews.  Statistics 
show  that  similar  conditions  exist  in  other 
parts  of  Europe.* 

When  I  asked  an  acquaintance,  who  had  lived 
a  number  of  years  in  Austria,  why  this  w^as  so, 

*M.  Fishberg,  "  The  Jews,"  p.  366, 


248  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

he  replied  that  there  were  so  many  Jews  In 
Galicia  that  there  were  not  enough  other  people 
to  support  them.  He  then  went  on  to  explain 
that  between  the  two  classes,  the  nobility  who 
owned  the  land  and  the  peasant  who  cultivated 
it,  the  Jew  represented  the  trader,  or  middle- 
man. It  was,  therefore,  literally  true  that  there 
were  not  enough  other  people  in  the  country  to 
support  the  Jew,  who  represents,  however,  not 
more  than  ii  per  cent,  of  the  total  population. 
One  of  the  first  persons  I  met  in  Galicia  was 
a  representative  of  this  poorer  class  of  Jews.  I 
reached  Cracow  late  one  afternoon  in  the  latter 
part  of  September.  There  was  a  cold  wind 
blowing  and,  for  the  first  time  since  I  had  left 
Scotland,  I  noticed  an  uncomfortable  keenness 
in  the  evening  air,  which  was  an  indication,  I 
suppose,  that  I  was  on  the  northern  and  eastern 
or  the  Russian  side  of  the  Carpathian  Moun- 
tains. One  of  the  first  persons  I  encountered 
as  I  was  standing  shivering  at  the  entrance  of 
the  hotel  was  a  pale-faced,  brown-eyed  little 
boy,  who  spoke  to  me  in  English  and  seemed  to 
want  to  establish  some  sort  of  friendship  with  me 
on  the  basis  of  our  common  acquaintance  with 
the  English  language.  He  was  unmistakably 
a  Jew  and,  as  we  walked  down  the  street  to- 
gether, he  told  me  something  of  his  life  in  Lon- 
don and  then  in  Cracow.     I  gathered  from  what 


V 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW        249 

he  was  able  to  tell  me  that  his  father,  who  was  a 
cabinetmaker  and,  as  he  said,  "very  poor," 
had  found  it  harder  to  live  in  the  fierce  com- 
petition of  the  London  sweatshops,  where  he 
had  been  employed,  than  in  the  Ghetto  at 
Cracow,  and  so  had  grown  discouraged  and  re- 
turned. 

I  learned  from  him,  as  I  did  later  from  others 
of  his  race,  that  not  all  the  Jews  who  came  to 
England  and  America  succeed  and  get  rich  in 
a  few  years,  as  seems  to  be  commonly  supposed. 
Some  of  them  fail,  and  some  get  into  unexpected 
troubles,  and  frequently  families  who  immi- 
grate are  broken  up  and  some  of  them  sent  back 
as  a  consequence  of  the  enforcement  of  the  im- 
migration regulations,  so  that  there  is  not  so 
much  eagerness  to  go  to  America  as  there  was  a 
few  years  ago. 

In  spite  of  this  fact  the  Jews  of  Galicia, 
nearly  every  one  of  whom  probably  has  friends 
or  relatives  either  in  England  or  America,  seem 
to  look  with  peculiar  interest  upon  every  one 
who  speaks  the  English  language,  because  they 
regard  them  as  representatives  of  a  people  who, 
more  than  any  other  in  the  world,  have  tried 
to  be  just  to  the  Jews. 

A  few  days  later  I  met  in  a  little  village  a  few 
miles  from  Cracow  a  Jewish  trader  who,  like 
most  of  the  Jews  in  this  part  of  the  country, 


V 


250  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

spoke  German  as  well  as  Polish,  so  that  with 
the  assistance  of  Doctor  Park  I  was  able  to 
speak  with  him.  He  said  that  his  business  was 
to  buy  grain  and  fodder  from  the  large  land- 
owners in  different  parts  of  Galicia  and  sell  it 
again  to  the  peasants,  who  used  it  to  feed  their 
stock.  When  he  learned  that  I  was  from  Amer- 
ica and  that  I  wanted  to  see  something  of  the 
life  of  the  peasant  people  he  volunteered  to  be 
my  guide.  It  was  a  very  fortunate  meeting  for 
me,  for  I  found  that  this  man  not  only  knew 
about  the  condition  of  nearly  every  family  in 
the  village,  but  he  understood,  also,  exactly 
how  to  deal  with  them  so  that,  at  his  touch, 
every  door  flew  open,  as  if  by  magic,  and  I  was 
able  to  see  and  learn  all  that  I  wanted  to  know. 

In  the  meantime  I  noticed  that  our  guide 
and  interpreter  seemed  to  be  quite  as  interested 
in  learning  about  America  as  I  was  interested 
in  getting  acquainted  with  Galicia.  He  inter- 
larded all  his  information  about  the  condition 
of  the  peasants  in  diiferent  parts  of  the  country 
with  questions  about  conditions  in  America. 
As  it  turned  out,  he  not  only  had  relatives  in 
America,  but  he  had  a  cousin  in  New  York  who 
had  got  into  trouble  and  been  sent  to  prison 
for  three  years  on  account  of  some  business 
irregularity.  It  was  a  small  matter,  according 
to  my  Jewish  friend,  that  would  not  have  cost 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW        251 

more  than  eight  days'  imprisonment  in  Galicia. 
He  could  not  understand,  therefore,  how  a  poor 
man  should  be  treated  more  harshly  in  a  free 
country  like  America,  where  all  are  equal,  than 
he  was  at  home,  where  he  was  the  under- 
dog and  did  not  expect  consideration.  What 
seemed  to  trouble  him  most,  however,  was 
the  fact  that  he  had  not  heard  from  his  cousin 
for  a  year  and  no  one  knew  what  had  become 
of  him. 

When  the  matter  was  explained  to  me,  I  told 
the  man  that  if  he  would  give  me  the  name  and 
last  address  of  his  cousin,  when  I  returned  to 
New  York  I  would  look  the  matter  up  and,  if 
possible,  learn  what  had  become  of  the  missing 
cousin. 

This  seemed  to  me  a  very  natural  proposal, 
under  the  circumstances,  but  it  evidently  took 
the  poor  man  by  surprise,  for  he  stopped,  stared 
at  me  an  instant,  and  then  in  the  most  humble 
manner  knelt  down  and  kissed  my  hand.  I 
confess  that  at  first  I  was  a  little  shocked  and 
rather  disgusted.  Afterward  I  learned  that  it 
is  a  common  habit,  more  especially  in  Russia, 
for  peasants  to  kiss  the  hands  and  even  the  feet 
of  their  superiors.  The  thought  that  occurred 
to  me,  however,  was  that  it  must  have  taken 
many  centuries  of  subjection  and  oppression  to 
make  this  attitude  of  humility  a  familiar  and 


252  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

natural  way,  as  It  seemed  to  be  in  this  case,  of 
expressing  gratitude. 

The  singular  thing  about  it  all  was  that  this 
Jew  who  had  shown  himself  so  humble  toward 
me  looked  down  upon  and  despised  the  Polish 
peasants  among  whom  he  trades.  He  referred 
to  them  as  ''ignorant  and  dirty  creatures." 
For  all  that,  he  seemed  to  have  learned  their 
ways  of  expressing  himself  to  those  to  whose 
power  or  influence  he  looked  for  help  or  pro- 
tection. 

Under  these  circumstances,  with  these  in- 
grained habits  in  the  masses  of  the  people,  I 
found  It  hard  to  imagine  just  what  the  right  of 
manhood  suffrage,  which  has  recently  been  con- 
ferred upon  the  people  In  all  the  provinces  of 
Austria,  was  likely  to  mean  In  actual  practice. 

Nothing  was  Impressed  more  forcibly  upon 
me  during  my  study  of  conditions  In  Europe 
than  this —  namely,  that  we  can  tell  very  little 
from  the  mere  fact  that  this  or  that  political 
institution  exists  In  a  country  just  what  priv- 
ileges or  disadvantages  these  Institutions  bring 
to  the  masses  of  the  people.  In  fact,  it  seems 
to  be  just  as  true  In  Europe  as  it  Is  in  America, 
that  mere  legislative  enactments  can  of  them- 
selves no  more  produce  justice  and  freedom 
than  they  can  produce  Industry  and  thrift. 
After  the  physical  bondage  has  been  destroyed 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW        253 

there  still  remains  the  bondage  of  superstition, 
of  ignorance,  and  of  religious,  class,  and  racial 
prejudice.  The  act  of  this  Jew  in  kissing  my 
hand  was  a  revelation  to  me,  not  only  of  his 
own  state  of  mind,  but  of  the  conditions  by 
which  he  was  surrounded. 

I  think  this  one  incident,  more  than  anything 
else  I  saw  or  heard  while  I  w^as  in  Galicia,  gave 
me  an  insight  into  the  life  of  the  people.  It 
seemed  to  me  I  could  understand,  for  example, 
from  this  alone,  why  the  Jews  have  made  little 
more  progress  in  Galicia  than  they  have  in  the 
neighbouring  provinces  of  Roumania  and  Russia. 

As  for  my  guide,  I  might  add  that  I  never 
fieard  from  him  afterward.  If  he  wrote  to  me  the 
letter  never  reached  me,  and  I  do  not  know  what 
finally  became  of  the  cousin  whom  he  had  lost. 

Perhaps  I  ought,  before  I  attempt  to  describe 
the  condition  of  the  poorer  class  of  Jews  in 
Cracow,  to  say  something  of  another  Ghetto 
which  I  saw  while  in  Europe. 

During  my  stay  in  Prague  I  took  a  walk  one 
day  through  an  ancient  quarter  of  the  city 
which  had  been  formerly  inhabited  by  Jews. 
The  Ghetto  of  Prague  is  said  to  have  been  the 
largest  and  most  famous  in  Europe.  It  was, 
in  fact,  a  city  in  itself,  for  it  contained  not 
merely  the  oldest  synagogue  in  Europe,  with  a 
famous  old  Jewish  burial  ground  attached  to  it, 


254  -        THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

but  also  a  Rathhaus,  or  city  hall,  and  a  market 
In  which,  according  to  tradition,  Jewish-traders 
at  one  time  sold  Christian  slav^.  So  thor- 
oughly were  the  Jews  at  one  time  established 
in  this  quarter  of  the  city  that  it  went  under  the 
name  of  Judenstadt,  or  Jew^town.  There  they 
imaintained,  in  a  small  way,  a  separate  civil 
government  of  their  own,  just  as  they  do,  to  a 
lesser  extent,  in  Russia  to-day.  In  his  book 
on  the  Jews,  already  referred  to,  Mr.  M.  Fish- 
berg,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  many  facts  and 
statistics  concerning  the  condition  of  the  Jew, 
says  of  the  Jews  in  Russia  to-day: 

They  speak  their  own  language,  Yiddish,  and  many  conduct 
their  affairs,  keep  their  ledgers,  write  contracts,  wills,  and  many 
other  documents  in  this  dialect;  the  registration  of  births,  mar- 
riages, and  deaths  is  done  by  their  rabbis,  and  the  divorces 
granted  by  them  are  recognized  by  the  state  as  valid;  in  the 
smaller  towns  they  prefer  to  settle  their  differences  before  their 
own  judiciary  (Beth  din),  and  not  in  the  state  courts;  they 
collect  the  greater  part  of  their  own  taxes  for  the  Government 
in  the  name  of  the  Jewish  community;  not  only  is  each  individual 
Jew  required  to  do  military  duty,  but  the  Jewish  community  as 
a  whole  is  held  responsible  for  delivering  annually  a  certain 
number  of  recruits.  This  separateness  goes  as  far  as  the  cal- 
endar with  many  Jews,  who  date  their  letters  and  documents 
according  to  the  Hebrew  and  not  the  Russian  calendar.  Up 
to  about  fifty  years  ago  it  was  a  disgrace  for  a  Jew  to  be  able  to 
read  Russian  or  German,  or  even  to  have  in  his  possession  a 
book  in  one  of  these  vulgar  languages;  it  was  a  sin  next  to 
apostasy.  But  during  the  last  two  generations  a  profound 
change  has  taken  place. 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW        255 

At  the  time  I  was  in  Prague  the  ancient 
Ghetto  was  in  process  of  demolition,  and  it 
illustrates  the  change  which  has  come  in  recent 
years  that  most  of  the  people  living  in  the 
narrow  streets  and  battered  ancient  buildings 
of  the  former  Ghetto  were  not  Jews  but  Chris- 
tians. 

After  Prague,  the  city  which  has  the  oldest 
and  most  interesting  Ghetto  in  Europe  is 
Cracow,  and  the  most  interesting  thing  about 
it  is  the  fact  that  it  is  still  inhabited  by  Jews. 
They  live  there  to-day  very  much,  I  suppose,  as 
they  did  a  hundred  years  ago,  a  race  separate 
and  apart,  more  removed,  apparently,  from  the 
manners,  customs,  and  comprehension  of  the  rest 
of  the  world  than  any  people  this  side  of  China. 

I  have  known  Jews  nearly  all  my  life.  I  have 
done  business  with  them  and  have  more  than  ' 
once  talked  to  them  in  their  synagogues,  and 
have  always  found  sympathy  and  support 
among  them  for  the  work  I  have  had  to  dajfclL, 
m'iT'own  people.  I  have  frequently  visited  and 
studied,  to^ some  extent,  the  poorer  classes  in 
the  Jewish  quarter  on  the  East  Side  in  New 
York.  In  spite  of  this,  however,  when  certain 
strange  figures  in  long  black  coats,  soft  felt  hats, 
with  pale  faces,  lighted  by  dark  glittering  eyes 
and  framed  by  glossy  curls  which  hung  down  on 
either  side  in  front  of  their  ears,  were  pointed 


256  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

out  to  me  In  Vienna,  I  had  not  the  slightest 
notion  to  what  race  or  natlonaHty  of  people 
they  belonged.  Later  on,  when  I  reached  Cra- 
cow, these  same  slender  figures  and  pale,  deli- 
cate faces  became  very  familiar  to  me,  and  I 
learned  to  recognize  in  them  the  higher  type 
of  Polish  Jew. 

The  great  majority  of  the  Jews  in  Cracow 
still  make  their  homes  in  a  quarter  of  the  city 
called  the  "Kazimierz,"  which  gets  its  name 
from  that  of  a  Polish  king  who  fell  in  love  with 
a  beautiful  Jewess  some  four  hundred  years  ago 
and,  for  her  sake,  made  Poland  a  refuge  for  the 
members  of  her  race,  who,  at  that  time,  were 
hunted  almost  like  wild  beasts  in  other  parts 
of  Europe. 

I  visited  the  Kazimierz  late  one  afternoon, 
when  the  narrow,  dirty,  and  ill-smelling  streets 
were  swarming  with  their  strange  brood  of  slat- 
ternly, poverty-stricken,  and  unhealthy  looking 
inhabitants. 

I  have  been  through  the  Jewish  quarter  in 
New  York,  with  Its  confusion  of  pushcarts,  its 
swarms  of  black-eyed  children,  and  Its  strange 
old  men  with  gray-brown  beards  wandering 
careworn  and  absorbed  through  the  crowded 
streets,  each  anxiously  Intent  on  some  thought 
or  purpose  of  his  own.  The  Jewish  quarter  on 
the  East  Side  in  New  York  is,  however,  a  pale 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW        257 

reflection  of  the  Ghetto  In  Cracow.  For  one 
thing,  the  Jew  in  New  York,  though  he  retains 
many  of  the  habits  and  customs  of  the  country 
from  which  he  came,  seems,  in  most  cases,  to 
be  making  an  earnest  effort  to  make  an  American 
of  himself;  to  learn  the  language,  adopt  the 
dress  and,  as  far  as  possible,  the  manners  of  the 
new  country  of  which  he  is  soon  to  become,  if  he 
is  not  already,  a  citizen. 

The  masses  of  the  Polish  Jews,  however,  still 
cling  tenaciously  to  the  customs  of  their  religion 
and  of  the  Ghetto  in  which,  for  a  thousand  years 
or  more,  they  have  lived  as  exiles  and,  more  or 
less,  like  prisoners.  Instead  of  seeking  to  make 
themselves  look  like  the  rest  of  the  people 
among  whom  they  live,  they  seem  to  be  making 
every  effort  to  preserve  and  emphasize  the 
characters  in  which  they  are  different  from  the 
people  about  them. 

Although  I  met  in  Cracow  Jews  In  all  the  vari- 
ous stages  of  transition  —  as  far  as  their  dress 
is  concerned  —  from  the  traditional  Ghetto 
Jew  to  the  modern  literary,  professional  or  busi- 
ness man,  nevertheless  the  majority  of  the 
Jews  still  cling  to  the  long  black  coat  which 
they  were  compelled  to  wear  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  Certain  ones  have  discarded  this  symbol 
of  exclusiveness,  but  still  wear  the  long  beard, 
and  the  side  curls  in  front  of  their  ears,  which 


258  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

seem  to  be  especially  dear  to  them,  perhaps, 
because,  for  some  reason  I  could  not  understand, 
they  are  forbidden  to  wear  them  in  Russia. 

Perhaps  it  was  the  effect  of  the  costume,  which 
gave  them  a  strange  and  alien  appearance,  but 
it  seemed  to  me,  at  first,  as  if  every  Jew  in 
Cracow  had  exactly  the  same  features,  the 
same  manner  of  walking,  and  the  same  expres- 
sion of  countenance.  As  I  watched  the  different 
figures  in  the  crowded  streets  more  closely, 
however,  I  discovered  that  beneath  the  peculiar 
dress  and  manner  many  different  types  of  hu- 
man beings  were  concealed.  There  were  the 
pale-browed  students,  who  moved  through  the 
crowd  with  a  hurried  and  abstracted  air;  there 
were  slender  and  elegant  aristocrats,  who,  while 
still  wearing  the  uniform  of  their  race,  dressed 
with  a  scrupulous  correctness  and  looked  at  you 
with  an  expression  which  seemed  a  curious  min- 
gling of  the  humility  of  the  Jew  and  the  scorn 
of  the  Pharisee. 

There  was  the  commonplace  plodding  Jew, 
following  humbly  in  the  common  ruts  of  barter 
and  trade  and  the  daily  and  weekly  routine 
which  his  religion  prescribed.  There  was  the 
outcast  beggar,  dirty  and  wretched,  doddering 
aimlessly  along  the  dirty  street  or  sitting  in 
some  doorway,  staring  disconsolately  into  the 
street.     There    was,    also,    the    dirty,    glutton- 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW        259 

ous,  ignorant,  and  brutal  type,  on  whom 
neither  suffering  nor  fanaticism  seemed  to  have 
made  any  impression,  and  who,  in  his  Jewish 
dress  and  manners,  looked  like  a  caricature  of 
his  more  high-bred  neighbour. 

I  visited  the  ancient  synagogue  while  I  was 
in  Cracow,  which  they  say  was  built  for  the  Jews 
by  that  same  Polish  king,  Kazimierz,  who  first 
invited  them  to  take  refuge  in  his  country.  I 
saw  there  the  ancient  Roll  of  theLaws  and  ancient 
Prayer  Book  which  were  brought  from  Spain 
when  the  Jews  were  expelled  from  that  country. 

Nearby  the  synagogue  is  the  ancient  Jewish 
market.  A  narrow  street  leads  into  an  open 
square  in  the  centre  of  which  is  a  circular  build- 
ing. Before  one  of  the  entrances  of  this  build- 
ing a  man,  with  the  pale  brow  and  delicate 
features  which  seem  to  be  a  mark  of  superiority 
among  the  people  of  the  Ghetto,  was  publicly 
slaughtering  geese.  The  square  in  which  this 
building  stood  was  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
rows  of  little  market  booths,  in  front  of  which 
groups  of  men  and  women  were  dickering  and 
trading  for  various  small  wares.  A  crowd  of 
women  stood  about  the  building  in  the  centre 
of  the  square  and  watched  the  pale-browed  man, 
who  did  not  seem  to  relish  the  job,  as  he  rapidly 
and  dexterously  performed  the  ceremony  of 
cutting  the  throats  of  the  geese.     These  were 


26o  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

handed  to  him  by  a  good-natured  looking 
woman,  wearing  an  apron  and  high  boots,  red 
with  blood.  After  the  geese  were  killed  they 
were  hung  over  a  pit  to  drain,  while  fresh  vic- 
tims were  brought  from  the  baskets  and  crates 
standing  about  in  the  open  square.  A  foul 
smell  from  the  open  pit  in  which  the  geese  were 
allowed  to  bleed  filled  the  square.  This  did  not 
add  to  the  dignity  of  the  proceedings,  but  it 
served  to  impress  them  upon  my  memory. 

In  one  corner  of  the  square  I  noticed  a  dull 
gray-coloured  building  from  which  troops  of 
little  Jewish  children  were  issuing.  It  was  one 
of  those  schools  by  means  of  which  Jewish 
teachers,  through  all  the  persecutions  and  dis- 
persions of  nineteen  centuries,  have  kept  alive 
the  memory  of  the  Jewish  history  and  the  Jew- 
ish law  and  so  kept  the  race  together.  I  do  not 
think  I  know  of  anything  which  so  illustrates 
and  emphasizes  the  power  of  education  as  the 
influences  which  these  schools  have  had  upon 
the  Jewish  people. 

I  was  interested  in  all  that  I  saw  of  the  life 
of  the  Jew  in  Cracow,  because  it  gave  me  some 
idea  of  the  poverty,  degradation,  and  squalor 
in  which  more  than  half  of  the  Jewish  race  is 
living  to-day  in  different  parts  of  Europe.  Of 
the  twelve  million  Jews  in  the  world,  about 
nine  millions  live  in  Europe.     Of  this  number 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW        261 

more  than  six  million  live  in  Russia  and  nearly 
two  million  and  a  half  in  Austria,  Roumania,  and 
the  other  parts  of  southeastern  Europe.  I  have 
given  some  idea  of  the  poverty  of  the  Jews  in 
Galicia,  where  they  are  politically  free.  From 
all  that  I  can  learn  the  Jews  in  Russia  and 
Roumania  are  very  much  worse  off  than  they 
are  in  the  Austrian  province  of  Galicia.  Most 
of  us,  who  are  acquainted  with  Jews  only  in 
America  or  in  western  Europe,  have  been  led 
to  believe,  in  spite  of  the  evident  poverty  of 
many  of  the  Jews  who  live  on  the  East  Side  in 
New  York  and  in  the  Whitechapel  district  of 
London,  that,  as  a  race,  the  Jews  are  extremely 
wealthy.  I  was  surprised,  therefore,  to  read 
recently  the  statement,  made  by  Jews  who 
have  investigated  the  condition  of  their  own 
people,  to  the  effect  that,  while  they  are  un- 
deniably wealthier  than  their  Christian  neigh- 
bours in  the  countries  in  which,  during  the  past 
hundred  years,  they  have  been  granted  their 
freedom,  taking  the  Jews  as  a  whole  they  are 
poorer  than  any  other  civilized  nation  in  the 
world.  In  short,  one  writer  has  said:  ''If  we 
were  to  capitalize  their  wealth  and  distribute 
it  among  the  twelve  millions  of  Jews  they  would 
dispute  with  any  poor  nation  for  the  lowest 
place  in  the  scale  of  wealth."* 

*M.  Fishberg,  "The  Jews:  A  Study  of  Race  and  Environment,"  p.  361. 


262  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

The  direction  in  which  the  Jews  seem  to  be 
superior  to  all  of  the  rest  of  the  world  is  ap- 
parently not  in  wealth  but  in  education.  Even 
in  Russia,  where  they  do  not  have  the  same 
educational  advantages  that  are  given  to  the 
rest  of  the  population,  it  is  found  that,  while 
79  per  cent,  of  the  total  population  can  neither 
read  nor  write,  the  percentage  of  illiteracy 
among  the  Jews  is  6i  per  cent,  which  is  i8  per 
cent,  less  than  that  of  the  rest  of  the  population. 

In  western  Europe,  where  Jews  have  equal 
opportunities  with  their  Gentile  neighbours  in 
the  matter  of  education,  they  are  far  in  ad- 
vance of  them  in  education.  Statistics  for 
Cracow  show,  for  example,  that  while  only  a 
little  more  than  2  per  cent,  of  the  Jews  who 
applied  for  marriage  licenses  were  unable  to  read 
and  write,  between  15  and  20  per  cent,  of  the 
Christians  in  the  same  category  were  illiterate. 
In  Italy,  where  42.6  per  cent,  of  the  men  and 
57  per  cent,  of  the  women  of  the  Christian  pop- 
ulation over  fifteen  years  of  age  are  unable  to 
read  and  write,  only  3  per  cent,  of  the  men  and 
7.5  per  cent,  of  the  women  among  the  Jews  are 
illiterate. 

In  Austria  over  25  per  cent,  of  the  students 
of  the  universities  are  Jews,  although  they 
represent  only  5  per  cent,  of  the  population. 
In  Hungary,  where  Jews  represent  4.9  per  cent. 


CRACOW  AND  THE  POLISH  JEW        263 

of  the  population,  they  furnish  30.27  per  cent, 
of  the  students  in  the  universities  and  other 
schools  of  higher  education.  In  Baden,  Ger- 
many, Jews  have  proportionately  three  and  a 
half  times  as  many  students  as  the  Christians. 
Since  1 85 1  the  number  of  Jewish  students  in 
Austrian  universities  has  increased  more  than 
sevenfold,  while  the  number  of  Christian  students 
has  scarcely  more  than   trebled   in   that  time. 

One  reason  for  this  is  that  the  Jews  have  al- 
most invariably  made  their  homes  in  the  cities, 
where  the  opportunities  for  education  existed. 
They  have,  at  the  same  time,  been  almost 
wholly  engaged  in  business,  which  not  only 
requires  a  certain  amount  of  education,  but  is 
in  itself,  more  than  other  occupations,  a  source 
of  education. 

The  name  rabbi,  or  teacher,  has  always  been 
a  title  of  respect  and  honour  among  the  Jews 
from  the  earliest  time.  It  was  the  name  that 
his  disciples  bestowed  upon  Jesus. 

If  there  were  no  other  reasons  why  the  story 
of  the  Jew  should  be  studied,  it  would  be  inter- 
esting and  inspiring  as  showing  what  education 
can  do  and  has  done  for  a  people  who,  in  the 
face  of  prejudice  and  persecution,  have  pa- 
tiently struggled  up  to  a  position  of  power  and 
preeminence  in  the  life  and  civilization  in  which 
all  races  are  now  beginning  to  share. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A    POLISH    VILLAGE    IN    THE    MOUNTAINS 

IT  WAS  a  Jewish  trader  who  advised  me 
to  visit  Jedlovka.  He  said  that  I 
would  see  the  peasants  living  there  now 
as  they  had  lived  for  hundreds  of  years  —  in  the 
simplest  and  most  primitive  fashion. 

Jedlovka,  I  found,  is  a  little  straggling  vil- 
lage in  the  foothills  of  the  Carpathians  —  the 
mountains  which  divide  Galicia  from  Hungary. 
In  order  to  reach  the  village  it  was  necessary  to 
take  the  train  at  Cracow  and  ride  for  an  hour 
or  more  in  the  direction  of  Lemberg,  which  is 
the  Ruthenian,  just  as  Cracow  is  the  Polish, 
metropolis  of  Galicia. 

At  a  place  called  Turnow  we  changed  cars 
and  continued  our  journey  in  a  direction  at 
right  angles  to  that  in  which  we  previously 
travelled.  It  was  another  hour's  ride  by  train 
to  the  foothills  of  the  mountain.  At  Tuchow, 
at  the  point  where  the  railway,  running  south- 
ward, plunges  into  the  mountain,  we  disem- 
barked again  and  continued  our  journey  by 
wagon.     The  road  led  up  oufof  the  broad  plain 


A  POLISH  VILLAGE  265 

through  which  we  had  been  travelling,  into  a 
narrow  and  sombre  little  valley.  At  the  end 
of  this  valley  there  is  a  little  wayside  inn. 
Higher  up,  where  the  road,  winding  up  out  of 
the  valley,  leads  out  into  a  high,  clear  space 
at  what  seemed  to  be  the  top  of  the  mountain, 
there  is  a  church,  and  this  tavern  and  the  church, 
together  with  a  few  scattering  log  huts,  were  the 
village  of  Jedlovka  and  the  end  of  our  journey. 

I  had  had  a  vague  sort  of  notion  that  some- 
where in  this  remote  region  I  should  meet 
peasants  wearing  sheepskin  jackets,  sandals, 
and  leggings  bound  with  thongs,  driving  their 
herds  to  pasture.  I  even  had  a  wild  hope  that 
I  should  come  upon  some  rustic  festival,  such  as 
I  had  read  about,  where  the  young  men  and 
women  would  dance  upon  the  greensw^ard,  to 
the  music  of  shepherds'  pipes.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  it  chanced  that  our  visit  did  fall  upon  a 
feast  day,  but  there  were  no  shepherds  and  no 
dances.  What  I  saw  was  a  crowd  of  women 
pouring  out  of  the  little  church,  high  upon  the 
hill,  and  crowds  of  drunken  men  carousing  at 
the  tavern  below. 

Before  I  proceed  to  tell  what  I  learned  of  the 
peasant  life  in  this  mountain  country,  however, 
I  want  to  refer  to  one  feature  of  Polish  life 
which  was  impressed  upon  me  by  what  I  saw 
on  the  way. 


266  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

I  have  referred  in  the  preceding  chapter  to 
the  position  which  the  Jew  occupies  in  the  eco- 
nomic organization  of  Polish  Hfe.  He  is  the 
middleman  and  has  the  trade  of  the  country 
very  largely  in  his  hands.  I  was  particularly 
impressed  with  this  fact  by  what  I  saw  in  the 
course  of  this  journey.  Although  the  Jews 
represent  only  about  13  per  cent,  of  the  popu- 
lation of  Galicia,  I  am  certain  that  more  than 
half  of  the  people  on  the  train  on  which  we 
travelled  were  people  of  that  race.  There  were 
Jews  of  all  descriptions  and  in  all  stages  of 
evolution,  from  the  poor,  patient  pedler,  wear- 
ing the  garb  of  the  Ghetto,  to  the  wealthy 
banker  or  merchant  fastidiously  dressed  in  the 
latest  European  fashion.  When  we  left  the 
train  at  Tuchow  it  was  a  Jewish  horse  trader 
who  drove  us  in  his  improvised  coach  the  re- 
mainder of  our  journey  into  the  mountains.  A 
restaurant  at  which  we  stopped  to  get  something 
to  eat  on  our  return  was  conducted  by  a  Jew. 
Halfway  to  our  destination  we  passed  a  tumble- 
down cottage,  close  to  the  roadside,  with  a  few 
trinkets  in  the  window  and  some  skins  hanging 
from  the  beam  which  ran  along  the  front  of  the 
building.  We  stopped  and  spoke  to  an  ancient 
man  with  a  long  white  beard,  who  lives  there. 
He,  also,  was  a  Jewish  trader.  As  I  recall,  he 
was  engaged  in  buying  skins  from  the  peasants, 


A  POLISH  VILLAGE  _J3;67-- 

paying  them  in  the  junk  which  I  noticed  dis- 
played in  the  window.  When  we  reached  the 
tavern  at  the  end  of  our  journey  it  turned  out 
that  the  man  who  ran  the  tavern  was  a  Jew. 
Apparently  wherever  in  Poland  money  changes 
hands  a  Jew  is  always  there  to  take  charge  of  it. 
In  fact,  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  Jew  in  Poland 
was  almost  like  the  money  he  handled,  a  sort 
of  medium  of  exchange. 

It  was  a  very  curious  conveyance  in  which  we 
made  the  last  stage  of  our  journey  into  the 
mountains.  Instead  of  the  droske  we  had  ex- 
pected to  meet  at  the  station  we  found  what, 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  would  have  been 
a  farmer's  wagon,  I  suppose,  although  it  was 
an  altogether  different  sort  of  farmer's  wagon 
from  any.  I  had  ever  seen  in  America.  The 
frame  of  this  vehicle  was  something  like  a  great 
long  basket,  narrow  at  the  bottom,  where  it  sat 
upon  the  axles,  and  wider  at  the  top.  The  rim 
of  this  basket  was  made  of  poles,  about  the  size 
of  a  fence  rail,  and  this  rim  was  supported  upon 
the  frame,  which  rested  on  the  wagon,  by  little 
poles  or  pickets  fastened  in  the  frame  below  and 
the  rim  above,  like  a  fence  paling.  The  frame 
was  so  formed  that  it  might  have  served  the  pur- 
pose either  of  a  hayrick  or  a  carryall.  In  this 
case  it  had  been  converted  into  a  sort  of  coach 
or  omnibus,  with  hanging  seats,  supported  with 


268  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

leather  straps  from  the  rim.  Arranged  in  this 
way  this  farmer's  wagon  was  a  not  inconvenient 
mode  of  travel,  and,  driving  through  the  fresh 
green  country,  dotted  with  quaint,  little  moss- 
covered  cottages  which  seemed  as  much  a  part 
of  the  landscape  as  if  they  had  grown  there,  the 
journey  was  made  very  pleasantly. 

The  houses  in  this  part  of  the  country  were, 
for  the  most  part,  smaller,  more  weather-worn 
and  decrepit,  than  those  I  had  seen  in  other 
parts  of  Galicia.  In  fact,  in  some  cases 
the  green-thatched  roofs  were  so  old,  so  over- 
grown with  vegetation,  and  the  little  white- 
washed frames  of  the  buildings  that  supported 
them  had  so  sunken  into  the  soil,  that  some  of 
them  looked  like  gigantic  toadstools.  As  the 
day  we  visited  this  part  of  the  country  was  a 
holiday,  we  met  along  the  way  many  of  the 
peasants,  dressed  in  the  quaint  and  picturesque 
garb  of  the  country,  passing  in  groups  of  two 
or  three  along  the  road. 

I  had  before  this  visited  a  number  of  the  peas- 
ant houses  and  was  familiar  with  the  plan  and 
arrangement  of  them.  The  interior  of  these 
houses  is  usually  divided  into  two  rooms,  sepa- 
rated in  most  cases  by  an  entrance  or  hallway. 
In  one  of  these  rooms  the  whole  family,  con- 
sisting of  the  parents  and  perhaps  five  or  six 
children,  live,  eat,  and  sleep.     In  this  room  there 


A  POLISH  VILLAGE  269 

is  usually  a  very  large  brick  or  stone  oven  which, 
on  the  cold  winter  nights,  I  learned,  frequently 
serves  the  purpose  of  a  bed.  In  the  other 
room  are  the  cows,  pigs,  geese,  chickens.  If 
the  farmer  is  well-to-do  he  will  have  a  number 
of  buildings  arranged  in  a  hollow  square  having 
a  goose  pond  in  the  centre  and,  in  that  case, 
the  servants  wall  very  likely  sleep  in  the  straw 
in  the  barns  with  the  cattle.  I  can  give  a  more 
vivid  notion  of  some  of  these  houses  by  quoting 
a  few  lines  from  the  notes  jotted  down  by 
Doctor  Park  at  the  time  of  our  visit: 

To-day,  for  the  first  time,  we  visited  some  of  the  peasant  houses 
in  a  little  village  about  three  or  four  miles  from  Cracow.  It  was 
difficult  at  first  to  make  friends  with  the  people.  After  a  time  it 
transpired  that  they  were  afraid  that,  although  we  were  evidently 
foreigners,  we  might  be  Government  officials  of  some  sort. 
This  is,  perhaps,  not  strange,  since  there  are  many  races  in  this 
country  and  most  of  them  are  "foreigners"  to  each  other.  Our 
guide  says  the  people  fear  the  country  will  be  some  day  handed 
over  to  Russia.  We  got  on  better  when  the  people  learned  we 
were  Americans. 

Every  window  of  the  little  cottages  we  passed  was  crowded 
with  laughing,  curious  children,  with  pink  faces  and  white  teeth. 
We  visited  the  home  of  a  widow  with  ten  "yokes"  of  land  and 
two  cows.  The  cows  give  fifteen  litres  of  milk  a  day,  which  is 
about  ten  quarts.  The  woman  carries  this  to  the  market  in 
Cracow  every  day.  In  the  narrow  little  kitchen  the  children 
were  all  lined  up  in  a  row  against  the  wall  as  we  entered.  O^ie  of 
them  darted  for%vard  suddently  to  kiss  my  hand.  Mother  and 
children  were  barefoot.  The  cow  is  across  the  hall  from  the 
kitchen.  These  two  rooms,  the  kitchen  and  the  cow-stall,  are 
all  there  is  to  the  house.     I  discovered  what  the  duck  pond  in 


270  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

front  of  the  house  is  for.     The  woman  was  filling  it  with  straw 
to  make  manure. 

One  of  the  leading  men  in  the  village  has  a  brand-new  house 
made  of  logs.  The  logs  were  neatly  squared  and  the  chinks 
between  them  carefully  plastered  and  painted.  The  house  had 
three  rooms,  besides  a  storeroom  and  cow-stall.  I  counted 
three  barns  in  the  court,  besides  three  outdoor  cellars,  one  for 
the  milk  and  the  others  for  the  storing  of  vegetables.  To  my 
question  as  to  what  the  farmer  did  in  the  winter  our  guide  re- 
plied, "Nothing.  When  they  want  money  they  go  to  the  hole 
where  the  potatoes  and  turnips  are  buried  and  carry  a  load  to 
the  town."  The  owner  of  this  house  was  very  proud  of  his  new 
place  and  showed  one  room  in  which  were  several  huge  chests, 
decorated  and  stained  in  bright  vermilion  in  the  peculiar  style  of 
peasant  art.  These  chests  were  filled  with  clothes  —  peasant 
costumes  of  very  handsome  material,  very  beautifully  em- 
broidered and  decorated.  The  principal  ornament  of  the  cos- 
tume shown  us  was  a  belt  studded  with  brass  nails  with  broad 
leather  clasps,  as  large  as  a  small  platter,  behind  and  in  front. 
It  must  have  occupied  the  hours  of  a  good  many  long  winter 
evenings  to  make  the  garments  this  man  had  stowed  away  in 
these  chests.  Although  there  was  plenty  of  room  in  this  house, 
it  is  evident  that  the  family  lives  almost  wholly  in  the  one  large 
living-room. 

The  houses  I  visited  in  the  mountain  were 
constructed  on  the  same  plan  as  those  de- 
scribed, except  sometimes  there  was  only  one 
room  for  the  whole  family,  including  the  cow, 
the  chickens,  and  the  rest  of  the  animals.  It 
is  very  cold  on  the  north  side  of  the  mountains 
in  winter,  and  the  peasants  and  cattle  frequently 
live  in  the  same  room  to  keep  warm. 

In  one  of  the  little  huts  which  I  ventured  to 


A  POLISH  VILLAGE  271 

enter  I  found  two  old  women  lying  down,  ap- 
parently asleep,  on  a  heap  of  straw,  while  a  cow 
standing  nearby  them  was  peacefully  chewing 
her  cud,  and  several  chickens  were  busily  scratch- 
ing among  the  straw  on  the  earth  floor.  As  there 
was  almost  no  ventilation  the  air  in  some  of  these 
houses  was  almost  indescribable. 

It  was  in  this  part  of  the  country,  in  the  vi- 
cinity of  the  village  tavern,  that  I  found  people 
who  were  poor,  even  by  the  very  moderate 
standard  of  comfort  that  prevails  in  rural  Po- 
land. We  passed  on  the  drive  up  the  valley  a 
number  of  little  huddling  straw-thatched  huts. 
One  of  these,  which  did  not  seem  to  be  inhab- 
ited, I  determined  to  explore.  The  building  was 
of  the  prevailing  type,  with  the  cowshed  in  one 
end  and  the  living-room  in  the  other,  but  the 
thatch  was  no  longer  green,  and  age  had  im- 
parted to  the  whole  of  the  outside  of  the  building 
a  very  dismal,  weather-worn  appearance.  The 
windows  were  evidently  of  skins,  of  the  same 
brown  colour  as  the  building  itself.  The  en- 
trance was  through  what  would  evidently  have 
been  the  cowshed,  but  this  was  empty.  The 
door  into  the  living-room  was  open,  and,  as  I 
entered,  I  saw  at  first  only  a  cow  tied  to  a 
manger.  At  the  other  end  of  the  room,  hover- 
ing about  a  little  stone  hearth,  on  which  a 
little  fire  of  twigs  burned,  were  an  old  man  and 


2  72  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

woman.  As  is  frequently  the  case  in  many  parts 
of  Poland,  there  was  no  chimney,  and  the  rafters 
of  the  house  were  deeply  incrusted  with  the 
smoke  which  had  accumulated  in  the  peak  of 
the  roof  and  filtered  out  through  the  thatch  or 
through  an  opening  at  the  end  of  the  building. 
The  old  people  seemed  very  poor  and  helpless 
and,  as  I  was  about  to  leave  the  room,  they  held 
out  their  hands  and  begged  for  alms.  I  should 
like  to  have  stayed  and  talked  with  them,  but 
unfortunately  I  had  no  one  with  me  at  the  time 
who  was  able  to  speak  the  Polish  language. 

As  I  learned  that  a  number  of  people  had  gone 
to  America  from  this  valley  I  suspected  that 
these  old  people  were  some  of  those  who  had 
been  left  behind  and  perhaps  forgotten  by  the 
younger  generation  who  had  gone  across  the 
seas.  I  made  some  attempt  later  to  learn  if 
my  suspicions  were  well  founded,  but  no  one 
whom  I  afterward  met  seemed  to  know  anything 
about  the  history  of  the  old  people. 

The  wealthiest  landlord  in  the  vicinit}^  was,  as 
I  learned,  a  Polish  priest,  who  owned  four  dif- 
ferent farms,  and  most  of  the  people  in  the 
neighbourhood  seemed  to  be  his  tenants.  He 
lived  in  a  big,  bare,  rambling  house,  surrounded 
by  great  barns  filled  with  cattle  and  produce  of 
various  kinds.  I  stopped  to  call  at  this  house, 
thinking  that  I  might  learn  something  from  him 


A  POLISH  VILLAGE  273 

about  the  poor  people  I  have  referred  to,  but  the 
good  priest  was  not  at  home  and  the  people 
whom  I  found  at  this  house  did  not  seem  to  be 
able  to  tell  me  anything. 

The  tavern,  which  was  a  long,  low  log  struc- 
ture, built  on  the  same  general  plan  as  the 
houses  in  the  village,  was  crowded  with  revellers 
and  steaming  with  the  fumes  of  beer.  Men 
were  standing  about,  swinging  their  arms  and 
shouting  at  each  other  at  the  top  of  their  lungs, 
and  almost  every  one  of  them  was  drunk. 
Several  of  the  men  present,  including  the  pro- 
prietor, had  been,  as  I  learned,  in  America. 
One  of  them,  who  could  speak  a  few  words  of 
English,  gave  us  an  especially  hearty  welcome. 
Some  of  the  money  which  pours  into  Poland 
from  America  had  reached  even  this  remote 
corner  of  the  country,  it  seemed. 

I  asked  the  proprietor,  who  had  lived  in 
Newark,  N.  J.,  for  a  time  and  spoke  a  little 
English,  whether  he  liked  this  part  of  the  world 
better  than  America. 

"It  is  easier  to  live  here,"  he  said.  Then 
added,  "when  you  have  a  little  money." 

"But  when  you  haven't  any  money?"  I  sug- 
gested. He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Then 
go  to  America,"  he  said. 

He  told  me  a  good  deal  of  land  had  been 
purchased  in  this  part  of  the  country  with  money 


274  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

earned  in  America.  Land  was  worth  from  500 
to  1,000  guilder  per  "yoke,"  which  is  about 
^100  to  ^200  per  acre,  a  very  large  sum  in  a 
country  where  wages  are,  perhaps,  not  more 
than  25  or  50  cents  a  day. 

At  nightfall  we  returned  to  Tuchow,  which 
appeared  to  be  a  typical  market  town.  The 
town  is  arranged,  like  many  of  our  countr}^ 
villages  in  the  South,  around  a  large  open  square. 
In  the  centre  of  this  square  is  a  great  covered 
well,  from  which  the  town  draws  its  water. 
Four  pumps,  with  long  twisted  iron  handles, 
arranged  in  a  circle  about  the  well,  serve  to 
draw  the  water  to  the  surface.  Around  the 
four  corners  of  this  square  are  the  tradesmen's 
shops,  most  of  them  with  low,  thatched  roofs 
projecting  over  the  sidewalk  to  form  a  cover 
for  the  walk  in  front  of  the  shops,  and  frequently 
supported,  on  the  side  toward  the  street,  by 
curiously  carved  wooden  posts.  The  little  shops 
were  not  more  than  six  or  eight  feet  wide. 
There  was  usually  one  little  room  in  front  which 
was  for  the  store,  and  another  little  room  back 
in  which  the  shopkeeper  lived.  As  the  ceilings 
were  usually  very  low  and  the  windows  under  the 
wide  projecting  roofs  were  very  small,  it  made 
everything  appear  very  snug  and  tight,  some- 
what as  if  every  building  were  holding  on  to 
all  that  it  contained  with  both  arms. 


A  POLISH  VILLAGE  275 

It  all  looked  very  interesting  but  very  quaint 
and  old-fashioned.  I  noticed,  however,  that 
there  were  one  or  two  new  brick  buildings  in  the 
town,  and  the  evening  we  arrived  every  one 
was  in  great  excitement  over  the  installation 
in  the  public  square  of  two  new  electric  lights, 
the  first,  I  suspect,  that  had  been  seen  in  that 
part  of  the  country.  It  was  evident  that  in 
spite  of  the  apparent  solidity  and  antiquity  that 
things  were  changing  here  as  elsewhere. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A    RUSSIAN    BORDER   VILLAGE 

OF  THE  three  former  capitals  of  Poland 
the  city  of  Cracow,  the  last  of  Polish 
territory  to  lose  its  independence,  is 
now  an  Austrian  fortress.  One  day,  shortly 
after  my  arrival,  I  was  driving  in  the  suburbs 
of  the  city  when  my  attention  was  directed  to 
a  number  of  low,  grass-covered  mounds  scat- 
tered about  at  regular  intervals  in  the  level 
plain  outside  the  city.  To  all  appearances  these 
mounds  were  nothing  more  than  slight  ele- 
vations of  land  sinking,  in  a  direction  away  from 
the  city,  almost  imperceptibly  into  the  sur- 
rounding landscape.  In  all  probability,  if  it 
had  not  been  for  a  certain  regularity  in  the 
positions  which  they  occupied,  I  should  not 
have  noticed  them.  I  had  never  seen  a  modern 
fortified  city  and  I  was  therefore  considerably 
surprised  when  I  learned  that  these  gentle  ele- 
vations were  fortifications  and  that  beneath 
these  grass-grown  mounds  enormous  guns  were 
concealed,  powerful  enough  to  keep  a  vast 
army  at  bay.     These  facts  served  to  remind  me 

276 


A  RUSSIAN  BORDER  VILLAGE  a^?-"'^ 

that  Cracow  was  a  border  city,  guarding  a 
frontier  which  divides,  not  merely  two  European 
countries,  but  two  civilizations  —  I  might  al- 
most say,  two  worlds.  Cracow  Is,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  ten  miles  from  the  Russian  frontier,  and, 
although  the  people  in  Russian  Poland  are  of 
the  same  race  or  nationality  as  those  who  live 
in  the  Austrian  province  qi  Galicia,  speaking 
the  same  language  and  sharing  the  same  tra- 
ditions, the  line  which  divides  them  marks  the 
limits  of  free'  government  In  Europe. 

Now,  there  were  several  things  that  made 
this  frontier,  where  eastern  and  western  Europe 
meet,  peculiarly  Interesting  to  me.  In  the  first 
place,  I  knew  that  thousands  of  people,  most  of 
them  Poles  and  Jews,  who  were  unwilling  or 
unable  to  pay  the  high  tax  which  Russia  im- 
poses upon  its  emigrants,  were  every  year 
smuggled  across  that  border  in  order  to  embark 
at  some  German  or  Austrian  port  for  America. 
I  knew  at  the  same  time  that  Jews  and,  to  a 
lesser  extent,  perhaps,  Poles,  outside  of  Russia 
were  making  use  of  this  same  underground  rall- 
w^ay  to  send  back,  In  return  for  the  emigrants 
who  came  out,  another  kind  of  contraband  — 
namely,  books  and  bombs.  In  fact,  I  had 
heard  that  a  few  years  ago,  w^hen  Russian 
Poland  was  all  aflame  with  civil  war,  it  was 
from^  Cracow    that    the    Jews,    who   were   the 


;>-a5L^       THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

leading  spirits  in  that  movement,  directed  the 
revolution. 

Naturally  all  this  served  to  increase  my 
natural  curiosity  in  this  border  country.  So  it 
was  that  one  cool,  clear  day  in  September  I 
rented  a  little  droske  for  the  day  and  started, 
in  company  with  my  companion,  Doctor  Park, 
for  the  Russian  border. 

We  drove  leisurely  along  a  splendid  military 
road,  between  broad  fields,  in  which  peasants 
were  gathering,  in  the  cool  autumn  sunlight, 
the  last  fruits  of  the  summer's  harvest.  A 
country  road  in  Galicia,  as  is  true  in  almost 
any  part  of  Europe,  is  a  good  deal  more  of  a 
highway  than  a  country  road  in  most  parts  of 
America.  One  meets  all  sorts  of  travellers. 
We  passed,  for  example,  just  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  city,  a  troop  of  soldiers,  with  the  raw 
look  of  recruits  —  red-faced  country  boys  they 
seemed,  for  the  most,  bulging  out  of  their 
military  suits  and  trudging  along  the  dusty 
road  with  an  awkward  eifort  at  the  military 
precision  and  order  of  veterans.  Now  and 
then  we  passed  a  barefoot  peasant  woman, 
tramping  briskly  to  or  from  the  city,  with  a 
basket  on  her  head  or  a  milk  can  thrown  over 
her  shoulder. 

Once  we  stopped  to  watch  a  group  of  women 
and   girls   threshing.      One  woman  was  pitch- 


A  RUSSIAN  BORDER  VILLAGE  279 

ing  down  sheaves  of  rye  from  the  barn  loft, 
another  was  feeding  them  to  the  machine,  and 
all  were  in  high  glee  at  the  wonderful  way,  as  it 
seemed  to  them,  in  which  this  new  invention 
separated  the  grain  from  the  chaff.  They  were 
so  proud  of  this  little  machine  that,  when  we 
stopped  and  showed  our  interest  in  what  they 
were  doing,  they  insisted  on  showing  us  how  it 
worked,  and  took  pains  to  explain  the  advan- 
tages over  the  old-fashioned  flail.  There  was  a 
man  sitting  on  a  beam  outside  the  barn  smoking 
a  pipe,  but  the  women  were  doing  the  work. 

On  this  same  journey  we  stopped  at  a  little 
straggling  village  and  spent  an  hour  or  two  visit- 
ing the  homes  of  the  people.  We  saw  the  house 
of  the  richest  peasant  in  the  village,  who  owned 
and  farmed  something  like  a  hundred  acres  of 
land,  as  I  remember;  and  then  we  visited  the 
home  of  the  poorest  man  in  the  community,  who 
lived  in  a  little  thatch-roofed  cottage  of  two 
rooms;  one  of  these  was  just  large  enough  to 
hold  a  cow,  but  there  was  no  cow  there.  The 
other  room,  although  it  was  neat  and  clean, 
was  not  much  larger  than  the  cow-stall,  and  in 
this  room  this  poor  old  man  and  his  daughter 
lived.  Incidentally,  in  the  course  of  our  tramp 
about  the  village,  Doctor  Park  managed  to  pick 
up  something  of  the  family  histories  of  the 
people  and  not  a  little  of  the  current  gossip  in 


28g  the  man  farthest  DOWN 

the  community,  and  all  this  aided  me  in  getting 
an  insight,  such  as  I  had  not  been  able  to  get 
elsewhere,  into  the  daily  life  and  human  interests 
of  this  little  rural  community. 

At  one  point  along  the  road  we  stopped  for 
a  few  minutes  at  a  wayside  tavern.  It  was  a 
log  structure,  with  one  great,  long,  low,  desolate 
room,  in  one  corner  of  which  was  a  bar  at  which 
a  sour-faced  woman  presided.  Two  or  three 
men  were  lounging  about  on  the  benches  in 
different  parts  of  the  room,  but  here  again  the 
woman  was  doing  the  work. 

Every  mile  or  two  it  seemed  to  me  we  met  a 
wagon  piled  high  with  great  bulging  bags  as 
large  as  bed  ticks.  In  each  case  these  wagons 
were  driven  by  a  little  shrewd-faced  Jew. 
These  wagons,  as  I  learned,  had  come  that 
morning  from  Russia  and  the  loads  they  carried 
were  goose  feathers. 

A  little  farther  on  we  came  up  with  a  foot 
passenger  who  was  making  toward  the  border 
with  great  strides.  He  turned  out  to  be  a  Jew, 
a  tall,  erect  figure,  with  the  customary  round, 
flat  hat  and  the  long  black  coat  which  dis- 
tinguish the  Polish  Jew.  Our  driver  informed 
us,  however,  that  he  was  a  Russian  Jew,  and 
pointed  out  the  absence  of  the  side  curls  as 
indicating  that  fact.  Although  this  man  had 
the  outward  appearance,  the  manner,  and  the 


A  RUSSIAN  BORDER  VILLAGE  2^^' 

dress  of  the  Jews  whom  I  had  seen  in  Cracow, 
there  was  something  in  the  vigorous  and  erect 
carriage  that  impressed  me  to  such  an  extent 
that  I  suggested  that  we  stop  and  talk  wdth  him. 
As  we  w^ere  already  near  the  border,  and  he 
w^as  evidently  from  Russia,  I  suggested  that 
Doctor  Park  show  him  our  passports  and  ask 
him  if  they  w^ould  let  us  into  Russia. 

He  stopped  abruptly  as  we  spoke  to  him, 
and  turned  his  black,  piercing  eyes  upon  us. 
Without  saying  a  word  he  took  the  passports, 
glanced  them  through  rapidly,  tapped  them 
with  the  back  of  his  hand,  and  handed  them 
back  to  us. 

"That  is  no  passport,"  he  said,  and  then  he 
added,  '^it  should  have  the  vise  of  your  consul." 

Having  said  this  much  he  turned  abruptly, 
without  waiting  for  further  conversation,  and 
strode  on.  We  soon  came  up  with  and  passed 
him,  but  he  did  not  look  up.  A  little  later 
we  halted  at  the  border.  I  looked  around  to 
see  what  had  become  of  our  wandering  Jew, 
but  he  had  disappeared.  Perhaps  he  had 
stopped  at  the  inn,  and  perhaps  he  had  his  own 
way  of  crossing  the  border. 

I  was  reminded  of  this  strange  figure  a  few 
months  later  when  I  noticed  in  one  of  the 
London  papers  a  telegram  from  Vienna  to  the 
effect  that  some  thirty   persons  had  been  ar- 


282  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

rested  at  Cracow  who  were  suspected  of  being 
the  ringleaders  "in  what  is  believed  to  be  a 
widespread  revolutionary  organization  of  Rus- 
sian refugees."  The  report  added  that  "a 
whole  wagon-load  of  Mannliches  rifles,  Brown- 
ing pistols,  and  dynamite  grenades,  together 
with  a  large  number  of  compromising  documents 
and  plans  of  military  works,  were  siezed  as  a 
result  of  searches  by  the  police  in  the  houses  of 
the  arrested  men. " 

I  had  frequently  seen  reports  like  this  in  the 
newspapers  before  this  time,  but  they  had  a  new 
significance  for  me  now  that  I  had  visited  the 
border  country  where  this  commerce  with  what 
has  been  called  the  ''Underground"  or  ''Rev- 
olutionary" Russia  was  part  of  the  daily  ex- 
perience of  the  people.  It  all  recalled  to  my 
mind  the  stories  I  had  heard,  when  I  was  a  boy, 
from  my  mother's  lips  of  the  American  Under- 
ground Railway  and  the  adventures  of  the  run- 
away slaves  in  their  efforts  to  cross  the  border 
between  the  free  and  slave  states.  It  reminded 
me,  also,  of  the  wilder  and  more  desperate 
struggles,  of  which  we  used  to  hear  whispers  in 
slavery  time,  when  the  slaves  sought  to  gain 
their  freedom  by  means  of  insurrection.  That 
was  a  time  when,  in  the  Southern  States,  no 
matter  how  good  the  relations  between  the 
individual    master    and    his    slaves,    each    race 


A  RUSSIAN  BORDER  VILLAGE  283 

lived  in  constant  fear  of  the  other.  It  is  in  this 
condition,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  that  a  great 
part  of  the  people  in  Russia  are  living  to-day, 
for  it  is  fatally  true  that  no  community  can  live 
without  fear  in  which  one  portion  of  the  peo- 
ple seeks  to  govern  the  other  portion  through 
terror. 

The  Austrian  and  Russian  border  at  Barany, 
the  village  at  which  we  had  now  arrived,  is 
not  imposing.  A  wire  fence,  and  a  gate  such 
as  is  sometimes  used  to  guard  a  railway  cross- 
ing, are  all  that  separate  one  country  from  the 
other.  On  one  side  of  this  gate  I  noticed  a 
little  sentinel's  box,  marked  in  broad  stripes, 
with  the  Austrian  colours,  and  at  the  other  end 
of  the  gate  there  was  a  similar  little  box  marked 
in  broad  stripes,  with  the  Russian  colours.  On 
the  Austrian  side  there  was  a  large  building  for 
the  use  of  the  customs  officials.  On  the  Russian 
side  there  was  a  similar  building  with  the 
addition  of  a  large  compound.  In  this  com- 
pound there  were  about  twenty  Russian  soldiers, 
standing  idly  about,  with  their  horses  saddled 
and  bridled.  The  reason  for  the  presence  of  the 
soldiers  on  the  Russian  side  of  the  border  was  due 
to  the  fact  that  it  is  the  business  of  the  customs 
officers  not  merely  to  collect  the  tolls  on  the 
commerce  that  crosses  the  border  at  this  point, 
but  to  prevent  any  one  entering  or  leaving  the 


284  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

country.  As  Russia  imposes  an  almost  pro- 
hibitive tax  on  emigration,  most  of  the  Russian 
emigrants  are  smuggled  across  the  border. 

At  the  same  time  it  is  necessary  to  closely 
guard  the  frontier  in  order  to  prevent,  as  I  have 
said,  the  importation  of  books  and  bombs,  the 
two  elements  in  western  civilization  of  which 
Russia  seems  to  stand  most  in  fear. 

Leaving  our  droske  on  the  Austrian  side  of 
the  boundary.  Doctor  Park  and  myself  applied 
at  the  gate  between  the  two  countries.  A  big, 
good-natured  Russian  official  grinned,  but  shook 
his  head  and  indicated  that  we  could  not  be 
allowed  to  cross  over.  Our  driver  spoke  to  him 
in  Polish,  but  he  did  not  understand,  or  pre- 
tended he  did  not.  Then  we  found  a  man 
who  could  speak  Russian  as  well  as  German, 
and  through  him  we  explained  that  we  merely 
wanted  to  visit  the  town  and  be  able  to  say 
that  we  had  at  least  touched  Russian  soil.  On 
this  the  man  permitted  us  to  go  up  to  the  cus- 
toms ofhce  and  make  our  request  there.  At 
the  customs  office  we  tried  to  look  as  harmless 
as  possible,  and,  with  the  aid  of  the  interpreter 
we  had  brought  with  us,  I  explained  what  we 
wanted. 

At  the  customs  office  every  one  was  polite, 
good-humoured,  and  apparently  quite  as  much 
interested  in  us  as  we  were  in  them.     I  was  told, 


A  RUSSIAN  BORDER  VILLAGE  285 

however,  that  I  should  have  to  wait  until  a 
certain  higher  and  more  important  personage 
arrived.  In  the  course  of  half  an  hour  the  more 
important  personage  appeared.  He  looked  us 
over  carefully,  listened  to  the  explanations  of  his 
subordinates,  and  then,  smiling  good-naturedly, 
gave  us  permission  to  look  about  the  village. 
With  this  gracious  permission  we  started  out. 

The  first  thing  I  noticed  was  that  the  smooth, 
hard  road  upon  which  we  had  travelled  from 
Cracow  to  the  frontier  broke  off  abruptly 
on  the  Russian  side  of  the  border.  The  road 
through  the  village  was  full  of  ruts  and  mudholes 
and  the  mournful  and  mud-bedraggled  teams 
which  were  standing  near  the  gate,  waiting  to 
cross  the  border,  showed  only  too  plainly  the 
difficulties  of  travel  in  the  country  through 
which  they  had  passed.  Now  I  had  learned  in 
Europe  that  roads  are  a  pretty  good  index  of 
the  character  of  the  governments  that  maintain 
them,  so  that  it  was  not  difficult  to  see  at  the 
outset  that  the  Russians  were  very  poor  house- 
keepers, so  to  speak,  at  least  as  compared  with 
their  Austrian  neighbours.  This  was  evidently 
not  due  to  a  lack  of  men  and  officials  to  do  the 
work.  Counting  the  civil  ofi^icials  and  the 
soldiers,  I  suppose  there  must  have  been  some- 
where between  twenty  and  thirty  persons,  and 
perhaps   more,   stationed   at   this   little  border 


286  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

village,  to  collect  the  toll  on  the  petty  traffic 
that  crossed  at  this  point.  They  were,  however, 
but  part  of  the  vast  army  of  officials  and  soldiers 
which  the  Russian  Empire  maintains  along  its 
western  border  from  the  Baltic  to  the  Black 
Sea,  to  keep  the  watch  between  the  east  and 
the  west;  to  halt,  inspect,  and  tax,  not  merely 
the  ordinary  traffic,  but  the  interchange  of 
sentiments  and  ideas. 

I  could  not  help  thinking  how  much  more 
profitable  it  would  be  if  these  soldiers,  clerks, 
and  officials,  and  the  vast  army  of  frontiersmen 
to  which  they  belonged,  could  be  employed,  for 
example,  in  building  roads  rather  than  maintain- 
ing fences;  in  making  commerce  easier,  opening 
the  way  to  civilization,  rather  than  shutting 
it  out. 

Indeed  it  was  no  longer  strange  that,  with  all 
the  vast  resources  which  Russia  possesses,  the 
masses  of  the  people  have  made  so  little  prog- 
ress when  I  considered  how  large  a  portion  of 
the  population  had  no  other  task  than  that  of 
holding  the  people  down,  hindering  rather  than 
inspiring  and  directing  the  efforts  of  the  masses 
to  rise. 

I  had  not  gone  far  on  our  stroll  about  the 
village  before  I  discovered  that  the  Pole  who 
so  kindly  volunteered  to  help  us  was  a  man  of 
more  than  ordinary  intelligence.     He  had  seen 


A  RUSSIAN  BORDER  VILLAGE  287 

something  of  the  world,  and  I  found  his  rather 
gossipy  comments  on  the  character  of  the 
different  individuals  we  met,  and  upon  the 
habits  of  the  people  generally  in  the  village,  not 
only  entertaining  but  instructive.  He  had,  for 
example,  a  very  frank  contempt  for  what  he 
called  the  stupidity  of  the  officials  on  both  sides 
of  the  border,  and  it  was  clear  he  w^as  no  lover 
of  the  soldiers  and  the  Government.  At  one 
time,  as  we  started  down  a  side  street,  he  said: 
"There's  a  gendarme  down  there.  He  is  just 
like  one  of  those  stupid,  faithful  watch-dogs  that 
bristle  up  and  bark  at  every  person  that  passes. 
You  will  see  presently.  He  will  come  pufhng 
up  the  street  to  halt  you  and  turn  you  back. " 

"What  shall  we  do  when  we  meet  him.^*"  I 
asked. 

"Oh,  there's  nothing  to  do  but  go  back  if 
he  says  so,  but  you  will,  perhaps,  be  interested 
to  observe  the  w^ay  he  behaves." 

Presently  we  noticed  a  soldier  clambering 
hastily  over  an  adjoining  fence,  and  In  a  few 
minutes  he  had  come  up  w^ith  us,  his  face  all 
screwed  up  In  an  expression  of  alarmed  surprise. 

"This  is  the  gendarme  I  was  telling  you 
about,"  said  our  guide  quietly,  and  continued 
speaking  about  the  man  just  as  if  he  were  not 
present. 

As  we  were  not  able  to  talk  with  this  soldier 


288  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

ourselves,  and  as  he  did  not  look  very  promising 
in  any  case,  we  strolled  leisurely  back  while  our 
guide  entered  into  a  long  explanation  of  who 
and  what  we  were.  I  imagine  that  he  must 
have  put  a  good  deal  of  varnish  on  his  story, 
for  I  noticed  that,  as  the  soldier  glanced  at  us 
from  time  to  time,  his  eyes  began  getting  bigger 
and  bigger,  and  his  mouth  opened  wider  and 
wider,  until  he  stared  at  us  in  a  stupid,  awe- 
struck way.  Finally  the  interpreter  announced 
that  the  gendarme  had  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  we  might  go  down  the  road  as  far  as  we 
wanted  to,  only  he  would  be  obliged  to  ac- 
company us  to  see  that  we  did  not  break  the 
peace  in  any  way. 

Under  the  direction  of  our  self-appointed 
guide  we  visited  a  dusty,  musty  little  bar-room, 
which  seemed  to  be  the  centre  of  such  life  as 
existed  In  the  village.  We  found  a  few  young 
country  boys  lolling  about  on  benches,  and  the 
usual  shrewish,  sharp-faced,  overworked  woman, 
who  grumblingly  left  her  housework  to  inquire 
what  we  wanted. 

The  contents  of  the  bar  Itself  consisted  of  rows 
of  little  bottles  of  different  coloured  liquors, 
interspersed  with  packages  of  cigarettes,  all 
of  them  made  and  sold  under  the  supervision 
of  the  Government.  I  purchased  one  of  these 
little  bottles  of  vodka,  as  it  is  called,  because  I 


A  RUSSIAN  BORDER  VILLAGE  289 

wanted  to  see  what  it  was  the  Government  gave 
the  peasants  to  drink.  It  was  a  white,  colour- 
less liquid,  which  looked  like  raw  alcohol  and 
was,  in  fact,  as  I  afterward  learned,  largely, 
if  not  wholly,  what  the  chemists  call  "methy- 
lated spirits,"  or  w^ood  alcohol. 

We  visited  one  of  the  little  peasant  houses 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  customs  office. 
It  was  a  little,  low  log  hut  with  a  duck  pond 
in  front  of  the  doorway  and  a  cow-pen  at  right 
angles  to  the  house.  There  were  two  rooms, 
a  bedroom  and  a  kitchen.  In  the  kitchen,  which 
had  an  earthen  floor,  three  or  four  or  five  mem- 
bers of  the  family  were  sitting  on  stools,  gathered 
about  a  large  bowl,  into  which  each  was  dipping 
his  or  her  spoon.  The  bedroom  was  a  neat  little 
room,  containing  a  high  bed,  a  highly  decorated 
chest  of  drawers,  and  was  filled  with  curious 
bits  of  the  rustic  art,  including  among  other 
things  several  religious  pictures  and  images. 

Although  everything  in  this  house  was  very 
simple  and  primitive,  there  was  about  it  an  air 
of  self-respecting  thrift  and  neatness  that  showed 
that  the  family  which  lived  here  was  relatively 
prosperous  and  well-to-do. 

Quite  as  interesting  to  me  as  the  houses  we 
visited  were  the  stories  that  our  guide  told  us 
about  the  people  that  lived  in  them.  I  recall 
among  others   the  story  of  the  young  widow 


290  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

who  served  in  the  customs  office  as  a  clerk  and 
lived  in  a  single  room  in  one  corner  of  the  peas- 
ant's cottage  to  which  I  have  just  referred.  She 
was  a  woman,  he  told  me,  of  the  higher  classes, 
as  her  enterprising  manner  and  intelligent  face 
seemed  to  indicate;  one  of  the  lesser  nobility, 
who  had  married  a  Russian  official  condemned 
for  some  fault  or  other  to  serve  at  this  obscure 
post.  He  had  died  here,  leaving  a  child  with 
the  rickets,  and  no  means. 

Another  time  our  guide  pointed  out  to  us  a 
more  imposing  building  than  the  others  we  had 
seen,  though  it  was  built  in  the  same  rustic  style 
as  the  smaller  peasants'  cottages  around  it.  This 
house,  it  seems,  had  at  one  time  belonged  to 
one  of  the  nobility,  but  it  was  now  owned  by 
a  peasant.  This  peasant,  as  I  understood,  had 
at  one  time  been  a  serf  and  served  as  a  hostler 
in  a  wealthy  family.  From  this  family  he  had 
inherited,  as  a  rew^ard  for  his  long  and  faithful 
service,  a  considerable  sum  of  money,  w^ith 
which  he  had  purchased  this  place  and  set  him- 
self up,  in  a  small  way,  as  a  landlord. 

I  gained,  I  think,  a  more  intimate  view  of  the 
peasant  life  in  Poland  than  I  did  in  any  other 
part  of  Europe  that  I  visited.  For  that  reason, 
and  because  I  hoped  also  that  these  seeming 
trivial  matters  would,  perhaps,  prove  as  inter- 
esting and  suggestive  to  others  as  they  were 


A  RUSSIAN  BORDER  VILLAGE  291 

to  me,  I  have  set  down  in  some  detail  in  this 
and  the  preceding  chapters  the  impressions  which 
I  gathered  there. 

'  In  the  Httle  village  of  Barany,  in  Russian 
Poland,  I  had  reached  the  point  farthest  re- 
moved, if  not  in  distance  at  least  in  its  institu- 
tions and  civilization,  from  America;  but,  as  I 
stood  on  a  little  elevation  of  land  at  the  edge 
of  the  village  and  looked  across  the  rolling 
landscape,  I  felt  that  I  w^as  merely  at  the  en- 
trance of  a  world  in  which,  under  many  outward 
changes  and  differences  of  circumstance,  there 
was  much  the  same  life  that  I  had  known  and 
lived  among  the  Negro  farmers  in  Alabama.  I 
believed,  also,  that  I  would  find  in  that  life 
of  the  Russian  peasants  much  that  would  be 
instructive  and  helpful  to  the  masses  of  my  own 
people. 

I  touched,  before  I  completed  my  European 
experiences,  not  only  the  Austrian,  but  the 
Russian  and  German  Polish  provinces,  but  I 
should  have  liked  to  have  gone  farther,  to 
Warsaw  and  Posen,  and  looked  deeper  into  the 
life  and  learned  more  of  the  remarkable  strug- 
gle which  the  Polish  people,  especially  in  these 
two  latter  provinces,  are  making  to  preserve  the 
Polish  nationality  and  improve  the  conditions 
of  the  Polish  people. 

In  this  connection,  and  in  concluding  what  I 


292  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

have  to  say  about  my  observations  in  Poland, 
I  want  to  note  one  singular,  and  it  seems  to  me 
suggestive,  fact :  Of  the  three  sections  of  the  Po- 
lish race,  German,  Russian,  and  Austrian,  there 
are  two  in  which,  according  to  the  information 
I  was  able  to  obtain,  the  people  are  oppressed, 
and  one  in  which  they  seem  to  be,  if  anything, 
the  oppressors.  In  Russian  Poland  and  in 
German  Poland  the  Polish  are  making  a  desper- 
ate struggle  to  maintain  their  national  existence, 
but  in  these  two  countries  the  Poles  are  pros- 
perous. Russian  Poland  has  become  in  recent 
years  one  of  the  largest  manufacturing  centres 
in  Europe,  and  the  masses  of  the  Polish  people 
have  become  prosperous  citizens  and  labourers. 
In  German  Poland  the  Polish  peasants  have, 
within  the  past  forty  years,  become  a  thrifty 
farming  class.  The  large  estates  which  were 
formerly  in  the  hands  of  the  Polish  nobility 
have  been,  to  a  very  large  extent,  divided  up 
and  sold  among  a  rapidly  rising  class  of  small 
landowners.  In  other  words,  what  was  orig- 
inally a  political  movement  in  these  two  coun- 
tries to  revive  and  reestablish  the  kingdom  of 
Poland  has  become  a  determined  effort  to  lift 
the  level  of  existence  among  the  masses  of  the 
Polish  people. 

In  Austrian  Poland,  on  the  contrary,  where 
the  Austrian  Government,   in  order,   perhaps, 


A  RUSSIAN  BORDER  VILLAGE  293 

to  hold  the  political  aspirations  of  the  Ruthe- 
nlans  In  check,  has  given  them  a  free  hand  in  the 
government  of  the  province,  they  have  vastly 
greater  freedom  and  "they  have  made  less  pro- 
gress. 

I  am  stating  this  fact  baldly,  as  it  was  given 
to  me,  and  without  any  attempt  at  an  ex- 
planation. Many  different  factors  have  no 
doubt  combined  to  produce  this  seeming  par- 
adox. I  will  merely  add  this  further  obser- 
vation: Where  the  Poles  are  advancing,  prog- 
ress has  begun  at  the  bottom,  among  the 
peasants;  where  they  have  remained  stationary 
the  Polish  nobility  still  rules  and  the  masses 
of  the  people  have  not  yet  been  forced  to  any 
great  extent  into  the  struggle  for  national 
existence.  The  nobles  are  content  with  op- 
portunity to  play  at  politics,  in  something  like 
the  old  traditional  way,  and  have  not  learned 
the  necessity  of  developing  the  resources  that 
exist  in  the  masses  of  the  people.  On  the 
other  hand,  oppression  has  not  yet  aroused  the 
peasants  as  It  has,  particularly  in  Germany,  to 
a  united  effort  to  help  themselves. 

I  mention  this  fact  not  merely  because  it  is 
interesting,  but  because  I  am  convinced  that 
any  one  who  studies  the  movements  and  prog- 
ress of  the  Negroes  in  America  will  find  much 
that  is  interesting  by  way  of  comparison  in  the 


294  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

present  situation  of  the  Polish  people  and  that 
of  the  American  Negroes.  My  own  observa- 
tion has  convinced  me,  for  example,  that  in 
those  states  where  the  leaders  of  the  Negro 
have  been  encouraged  to  turn  their  attention  to 
politics  the  masses  of  the  people  have  not  made 
the  same  progress  that  they  have  in  those  states 
where  the  leaders,  because  of  racial  prejudice 
or  for  other  reasons,  have  been  compelled  to 
seek  their  own  salvation  in  educating  and  build- 
ing up,  in  moral  and  material  directions,  the 
more  lowly  members  of  their  own  people. 

I  do  not  wish  to  make  comparisons,  but  I 
think  I  can  safely  say,  by  way  of  illustration, 
that  in  no  other  part  of  the  United  States  have 
the  masses  of  the  Negroes  been  more  completely 
deprived  of  political  privileges  than  in  the  state 
of  Mississippi,  and  yet  there  is,  at  the  same 
time,  scarcely  any  part  of  the  country  in  which 
the  masses  of  the  people  have  built  more  schools 
and  churches,  or  where  they  have  gained  a 
more  solid  foothold  on  the  soil  and  in  the  in- 
dustries of  the  state. 

In  calling  attention  to  this  fact  I  do  not  intend 
to  offer  an  excuse  for  depriving  any  members  of 
my  race  of  any  of  the  privileges  to  which  the 
law  entitles  them.  I  merely  wish  to  emphasize 
the  fact  that  there  is  hope  for  them  in  other 
and  more  fundamental  directions  than  ordinarv 


A  RUSSIAN  BORDER  VILLAGE  295 

party  politics.  More  especially  I  wish  to 
emphasize  one  fact  —  namely,  that  for  the 
Negroes,  as  for  other  peoples  who  are  strug- 
gling to  get  on  their  feet,  success  comes  to  those 
who  learn  to  take  advantage  of  their  disad- 
vantages and  make  their  difficulties  their 
opportunities.  This  is  what  the  Poles  in 
Germany,  to  a  greater  extent  than  any  of  the 
other  oppressed  nationalities  in  Europe,  seem 
to  have  done. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  WOMEN  WHO  WORK  IN  EUROPE 

SEVERAL  times  during  my  stay  in  Lon- 
don I  observed,  standing  on  a  corner 
in  one  of  the  most  crowded  parts  of 
the  city,  a  young  woman  selHng  papers.  There 
are  a  good  many  women,  young  and  old,  who 
sell  papers  in  London,  but  any  one  could  see  at 
a  glance  that  this  girl  was  different.  There  was 
something  in  her  voice  and  manner  which  im- 
pressed me,  because  it  seemed  to  be  at  once 
timid,  ingratiating,  and  a  little  insolent,  if  that 
is  not  too  strong  a  word.  This  young  woman 
was,  as  I  soon  learned,  a  Suffragette,  and  she 
was  selling  newspapers  —  "Votes  for  Women." 
This  was  my  first  meeting  with  the  women 
insurgents  of  England.  A  day  or  two  later, 
however,  I  happened  to  fall  in  with  a  number 
of  these  Suffragette  newspaper-sellers.  One  of 
them,  in  a  lively  and  amusing  fashion,  was 
relating  the  story  of  the  morning's  happenings. 
I  could  hardly  help  hearing  what  she  said,  and 
soon  became  very  much  interested  in  the  con- 
versation.    In   fact,    I    soon   found    myself   so 

296 


WOMEN  WHO  WORK  IN  EUROPE       297 

entertained  by  the  bright  and  witty  accounts 
these  young  women  gave  of  their  adventures 
that  it  was  not  long  before  I  began  to  enter  with 
them  into  the  spirit  of  their  crusade  and  to 
realize  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  what  a  glorious 
and  exciting  thing  it  was  to  be  a  Suffragette, 
and,  I  might  add,  what  a  lot  of  fun  these  young 
women  were  having  out  of  it. 

It  had  not  occurred  to  me,  when  I  set  out  from 
America  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  man 
farthest  down,  that  I  should  find  myself  in  any 
way  concerned  with  the  woman  problem.  I 
had  not  been  in  London  more  than  a  few  days, 
however,  before  I  discovered  that  the  woman 
who  is  at  the  bottom  in  London  life  is  just  as 
interesting  as  the  man  in  the  same  level  of  life, 
and  perhaps  a  more  deserving  object  of  study 
and  observation. 

In  a  certain  way  all  that  I  saw  of  the  condition 
of  woman  at  the  bottom  connected  itself  in  my 
mind  with  the  agitation  that  is  going  on  with 
regard  to  woman  at  the  top. 

Except  in  England,  the  women's  movement 
has  not,  so  far  as  I  was  able  to  learn,  penetrated 
to  any  extent  into  the  lower  strata  of  life,  and 
that  strikes  me  as  one  of  the  interesting  facts 
about  the  movement.  It  shows  to  what  extent 
the  interests,  hopes,  and  ambitions  of  modern 
life  have,  or  rather  have  not,  entered  into  and 


298  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

become  a  force  in  the  lives  of  the  people  at  the 
bottom. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  my  interest  in  all 
that  I  saw  of  workingwomen  in  Europe  was 
tinged  with  the  thought  of  what  was  going  to 
happen  when  the  present  agitation  for  the 
emancipation  and  the  wider  freedom  of  women 
generally  should  reach  and  influence  the  women 
farthest  down. 

In  my  journey  through  Europe  I  was  in- 
terested, in  each  of  the  different  countries  I 
visited,  in  certain  definite  and  characteristic 
things.  In  London,  for  example,  it  was  some 
of  the  destructive  effects  of  a  highly  organized 
and  complicated  city  life,  and  the  methods 
which  the  Government  and  organized  phil- 
anthropy have  employed  to  correct  them,  that 
attracted  my  attention.  Elsewhere  it  was 
chiefly  the  condition  of  the  agricultural  pop- 
ulations that  interested  me.  In  all  my  obser- 
vation and  study,  however,  I  found  that  the 
facts  which  I  have  learned  about  the  condition 
of  women  tended  to  set  themselves  off  and 
assume  a  special  importance  in  my  mind.  It  is 
for  that  reason  that  I  propose  to  give,  as  well 
as  I  am  able,  a  connected  account  of  them  at 
this  point. 

What  impressed  me  particularly  in  London 
were  the  extent  and  effects  of  the  drinking  habit 


WOMEN  WHO  WORK  IN  EUROPE       299 

among  women  of  the  lower  classes.  Until  I  went 
to  London  I  do  not  believe  that  I  had  more  than 
once  or  twice  in  my  life  seen  women  standing 
side  by  side  with  the  men  in  order  to  drink  at 
a  public  bar.  One  of  the  first  things  I  noticed 
in  London  was  the  number  of  drunken,  loafing 
women  that  one  passed  in  the  streets  of  the 
poorer  quarters.  More  than  once  I  ran  across 
these  drunken  and  besotted  creatures,  with 
red,  blotched  faces,  which  told  of  years  of 
steady  excess  —  ragged,  dirty,  and  disorderly 
in  their  clothing  —  leaning  tipsily  against  the 
outside  of  a  gin-parlour  or  sleeping  peacefully  on 
the  pavement  of  an  alleyway. 

In  certain  parts  of  London  the  bar-room  seems 
to  be  the  general  meeting  place  of  men  and 
women  alike.  There,  in  the  evening,  neighbours 
gather  and  gossip  while  they  drink  their  black, 
bitter  beer.  It  is  against  the  law  for  parents 
to  take  their  children  into  the  bar-rooms,  but 
I  have  frequently  observed  women  standing 
about  the  door  of  the  tap-room  with  their 
babies  in  their  arms,  leisurely  chatting  while 
they  sipped  their  beer.  In  such  cases  they  fre- 
quently give  the  lees  of  their  glass  to  the  children 
to  drink. 

In  America  we  usually  think  of  a  bar-room  as 
a  sort  of  men's  club,  and,  if  women  go  into  such 
a    place    at  all,  they  are   let  in  surreptitiously 


300  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

at  the  "family  entrance."  Among  the  poorer 
classes  in  England  the  bar-room  is  quite  as 
much  the  woman's  club  as  it  is  the  man's.  The 
light,  the  warmth,  and  the  free  and  friendly 
gossip  of  these  places  make  them  attractive,  too, 
and  I  can  understand  that  the  people  in  these 
densely  populated  quarters  of  the  city,  many  of 
them  living  in  one  or  two  crowded  little  rooms, 
should  be  drawn  to  these  places  by  the  desire 
for  a  little  human  comfort  and  social  intercourse. 

In  this  respect  the  bar-rooms  in  the  poorer 
parts  of  London  are  like  the  beer  halls  that  one 
meets  on  the  Continent.  There  is,  however, 
this  difference  —  that  the  effect  of  drink  upon 
the  people  of  England  seems  to  be  more  de- 
structive than  it  is  in  the  case  of  the  people  on 
the  Continent.  It  is  not  that  the  English  people 
as  a  whole  consume  more  intoxicating  drink 
than  the  people  elsewhere,  because  the  statistics 
show  that  Denmark  leads  the  rest  of  Europe  in 
the  amount  of  spirits,  just  as  Belgium  leads  in 
the  amount  of  beer,  consumed  per  capita  of  the 
population.  One  trouble  seems  to  be  that, 
under  the  English  industrial  system,  the  people 
take  greater  chances,  they  are  subject  to  greater 
stress  and  strain,  and  this  leads  to  irregularities 
and  to  excessive  drinking. 

While  I  was  in  Vienna  I  went  out  one  Sunday 
evening  to  the  Prater,  the  great  public  park. 


WOMEN  WHO  WORK  IN  EUROPE       301 

which  seems  to  be  a  sort  of  combination  of 
Central  Park,  New  York,  and  Coney  Island. 
In  this  park  one  may  see  all  types  of  Austrian 
life,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  Sunday 
seems,  however,  to  be  the  day  of  the  common 
people,  and  the  night  I  visited  the  place  there 
were,  in  addition  to  the  ordinary  labouring 
people  of  the  city,  hundreds,  perhaps  thousands, 
of  peasant  people  from  the  country  there.  They 
were  mostly  young  men  and  women  who  had 
evidently  come  into  the  city  for  the  Sunday 
holiday.  Beside  the  sober,  modern  dress  of 
the  city  crowds  these  peasant  women,  with  their 
high  boots,  the  bright-coloured  kerchiefs  over 
their  heads,  and  their  wide,  flaring,  voluminous 
skirts  (something  like  those  of  a  female  circus- 
rider,  only  a  little  longer  and  not  so  gauzy), 
made  a  strange  and  picturesque  appearance. 

Meanwhile  there  was  a  great  flare  of  music 
of  a  certain  sort;  and  a  multitude  of  catchpenny 
shows,  mountebanks,  music  halls,  theatres, 
merry-go-rounds,  and  dancing  pavilions  gave 
the  place  the  appearance  of  a  stupendous  county 
fair.  I  do  not  think  that  I  ever  saw  anywhere, 
except  at  a  picnic  or  a  barbecue  among  the 
Negroes  of  the  Southern  States,  people  who  gave 
themselves  up  so  frankly  and  with  such  entire 
zest  to  this  simple,  physical  sort  of  enjoyment. 
Everywhere  there  were  eating,   drinking,   and 


302  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

dancing,  but  nevertheless  I  saw  no  disorder; 
very  few  people  seemed  to  be  the  worse 
for  drinking,  and  in  no  instance  did  I  see  people 
who  showed,  in  the  disorder  of  their  dress  or 
in  the  blotched  appearance  of  their  faces,  the 
eifects  of  continued  excesses,  such  as  one  sees 
in  so  many  parts  of  London.  Individuals  were, 
for  the  most  part,  neatly  and  cleanly  dressed; 
each  class  of  people  seemed  to  have  its  own 
place  of  amusement  and  its  own  code  of  man- 
ners, and  every  one  seemed  to  keep  easily  and 
naturally  within  the  restraints  which  custom 
prescribed. 

I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  I  approve  of  this 
way  of  spending  the  Sabbath.  I  simply  desire 
to  point  out  the  fact,  which  others  have  noticed, 
that  the  effect  of  the  drinking  habit  seems  to  be 
quite  different  in  England  from  what  it  is  in 
countries  on  the  Continent. 

I  had  an  opportunity  to  observe  the  evil 
effects  of  the  drinking  habit  upon  the  Eng- 
lishwomen of  the  lower  classes  when  I  visited 
some  of  the  police  courts  in  the  poorer  parts  of 
London.  When  I  remarked  to  a  newspaper 
acquaintance  in  London  that  I  wanted  to  see  as 
much  as  I  could,  while  I  was  in  the  city,  of  the 
life  of  the  poorer  people,  he  advised  me  to  visit 
the  Worship  Street  and  Thames  police  stations. 
The  Worship  Street  station  is  situated  in  one  of 


WOMEN  WHO  WORK  IN  EUROPE       303 

the  most  crowded  parts  of  London,  in  close 
proximity  to  Bethnal  Green  and  Spitalfields, 
which  have  for  many  years  been  the  homes  of 
the  poorer  working  classes,  and  especially  of 
those  poor  people  known  as  houseworkers  and 
casuals,  who  live  in  garrets  and  make  paper 
boxes,  artificial  flowers,  etc.,  or  pick  up  such  odd 
jobs  as  they  can  find.  The  Thames  station  is 
situated  a  little  way  from  London  Dock  and  not 
far  from  the  notorious  Ratcliffe  Highway,  which 
until  a  few  years  ago  was  the  roughest  and  most 
dangerous  part  of  London. 

Perhaps  I  ought  to  say,  at  the  outset,  that 
two  things  in  regard  to  the  London  police 
courts  especially  impressed  me:  first,  the  order 
and  dignity  with  which  the  court  is  conducted; 
second,  the  care  with  which  the  judge  inquires 
into  all  the  facts  of  every  case  he  tries,  the 
anxiety  which  he  show^s  to  secure  the  rights  of 
the  defendant,  and  the  leniency  with  which 
those  found  guilty  are  treated.  In  many  cases, 
particularly  those  in  which  men  or  w^omen 
wxre  charged  with  drunkenness,  the  prisoners 
were  allowed  to  go  with  little  more  than  a  mild 
and  fatherly  reprimand. 

After  listening  for  several  hours  to  the  various 
cases  that  came  up  for  hearing,  I  could  wxU  un- 
derstand that  the  police  have  sometimes  com- 
plained  that  their  efforts   to  put  down   crime 


304  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

were  not  supported  by  the  magistrates,  who, 
they  say,  always  take  the  side  of  the  culprits. 

In  this  connection  I  might  mention  a  state- 
ment which  I  ran  across  recently  of  a  man  who 
had  served  at  one  time  as  a  magistrate  in  both 
the  Worship  Street  and  Thames  police  courts. 
He  said  that  there  was  a  great  deal  of  drunken- 
ness among  certain  of  the  factory  girls  of  East 
London,  although  they  were  seldom  arrested 
and  brought  into  court  for  that  offence. 

He  added:  "It  must  not  be  forgotten  that 
the  number  of  convictions  for  drunkenness  is 
not  by  any  means  a  proper  measure  of  inso- 
briety. If  a  policeman  sees  a  drunken  man 
conducting  himself  quietly  or  sleeping  in  a  door- 
way, he  passes  on  and  takes  no  notice.  Those 
who  are  convicted  belong,  as  a  rule,  to  the  dis- 
orderly classes,  who,  the  moment  liquor  rises 
to  their  heads,  manifest  their  natural  pro- 
pensities by  obstreperous  and  riotous  conduct. 
For  one  drunkard  of  this  order  there  must  be 
fifty  who  behave  quietly  and  always  manage  to 
reach  their  homes,  however  zigzag  may  be  their 
journey  thither." 

That  statement  was  made  a  number  of  years 
ago,  but  I  am  convinced  that  It  holds  good  now, 
because  I  noticed  that  most  of  the  persons  ar- 
rested and  brought  into  court,  especially  women, 
were  bloodstained  and  badly  battered. 


WOMEN  WHO  WORK  IN  EUROPE       305 

In  the  majority  of  these  cases,  as  I  have  said, 
the  persons  were  allowed  to  go  with  a  repri- 
mand or  a  small  fine.  The  only  case  in  which, 
it  seemed  to  me,  the  judge  showed  a  disposition 
to  be  severe  was  in  that  of  a  poor  woman  who 
was  accused  of  begging.  She  was  a  pale,  emaci- 
ated, and  entirely  wretched  appearing  little 
woman,  and  the  charge  against  her  w^as  that  of 
going  through  the  streets,  leading  one  of  her  chil- 
dren by  the  hand,  and  asking  for  alms  because 
she  and  her  children  were  starving.  I  learned 
from  talking  w^ith  the  officer  who  investigated 
the  case  that  the  statement  she  made  was  very 
likely  true.  He  had  known  her  for  some  time, 
and  she  was  in  a  very  sad  condition.  But  then, 
it  seems,  the  law  required  that  in  such  circum- 
stances she  should  have  gone  to  the  w^orkhouse. 

I  think  that  there  w^ere  as  many  as  fifteen  or 
twenty  w^omen  brought  into  court  on  each  of 
the  mornings  I  visited  the  court.  Most  of  them 
were  arrested  for  quarrelling  and  fighting,  and 
nearly  all  of  them  showed  in  their  bloated  faces 
and  in  their  disorderly  appearance  that  steady 
and  besotted  drunkenness  was  at  the  bottom  of 
their  trouble. 

I  have  found  since  I  returned  from  Europe 
that  the  extent  of  drunkenness  among  English- 
women has  frequently  been  a  matter  of  obser- 
vation and  comment.     Richard  Grant  White, 


3o6  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

In  his  volume  "England  Within  and  Without," 
says: 

I  was  struck  with  horror  at  the  besotted  condition  of  so  many 
of  the  women  —  women  who  were  bearing  children  every  year, 
and  suckling  them,  and  who  seemed  to  me  little  better  than 
foul  human  stills  through  which  the  accursed  liquor  with  which 
they  were  soaked  filtered  drop  by  drop  into  the  little  drunkards 
at  their  breasts.  To  these  children  drunkenness  comes  un- 
consciously, like  their  mother  tongue.  They  cannot  remember  a 
time  when  it  was  new  to  them.  They  come  out  of  the  cloudland 
of  infancy  with  the  impression  that  drunkenness  is  one  of  the 
normal  conditions  of  man,  like  hunger  and  sleep. 

This  was  written  thirty  years  ago.  It  is  said 
that  conditions  have  greatly  improved  in  recent 
years  in  respect  to  the  amount  of  drunkenness 
among  the  poor  of  London.  Nevertheless,  I 
notice  in  the  last  volume  of  the  "Annual  Chari- 
ties Register"  for  London  the  statement  that 
inebriety  seems  to  be  increasing  among  women, 
and  that  it  prevails  to  such  an  alarming  extent 
among  women  in  all  ranks  of  society  that 
"national  action  is  becoming  essential  for  the 
nation's  very  existence." 

The  statistics  of  London  crime  show  that, 
while  only  about  half  as  many  women  as  men 
are  arrested  on  the  charges  of  "simple  drunken- 
ness" and  "drunkenness  with  aggravations," 
more  than  three  times  as  many  women  as  men 
are  arrested  on  the  charge  of  "habitual" 
drunkenness.     Another    thing    that    Impressed 


WOMEN  WHO  WORK  IN  EUROPE       307 

me  was  that  the  American  police  courts  deal 
much  more  severely  with  women.  This  is  cer- 
tainly true  in  the  Southern  States,  where  al- 
most all  the  women  brought  before  the  police 
courts  are  Negroes. 

The  class  of  people  to  whom  I  have  referred 
represent,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  lowest  and 
most  degraded  among  the  working  classes. 
Nevertheless,  the^^  represent  a  very  large  ele- 
ment in  the  population,  and  the  very  exist- 
ence of  this  hopeless  class,  which  constitutes 
the  dregs  of  life  in  the  large  cities,  is  an  indica- 
tion of  the  hardship  and  bitterness  of  the  strug- 
gle for  existence  in  the  classes  above  them. 

I  have  attempted  in  what  I  have  already  said 
to  indicate  the  situation  of  the  women  at  the 
bottom  in  the  complex  life  of  the  largest  and,  if 
I  may  say  so,  the  most  civilized  city  in  the 
world,  where  women  are  just  now  clamouring  for 
all  the  rights  and  privileges  of  men.  But  there 
are  parts  of  Europe  where,  as  far  as  I  have  been 
able  to  learn,  women  have  as  yet  never  heard 
that  they  had  any  rights  or  interests  in  life 
separate  and  distinct  from  those  of  their  hus- 
bands and  children.  I  have  already  referred 
to  the  increasing  number  of  barefoot  women  I 
met  as  I  journeyed  southward  from  Berlin.  At 
first  these  were  for  the  most  part  women  who 
worked  in  the  fields.     But  by  the  time  I  reached 


3o8  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

Vienna  I  found  that  it  was  no  uncommon  thing 
to  meet  barefoot  women  in  the  most  crowded 
and  fashionable  parts  of  the  city. 

Experience  in  travelHng  had  taught  me  that 
the  wearing  of  shoes  is  a  pretty  accurate  in- 
dication of  civiHzation.  The  fact  that  in  a 
large  part  of  southern  Europe  women  who  come 
from  the  country  districts  have  not  yet  reached 
the  point  where  they  feel  comfortable  in  shoes 
is  an  indication  of  the  backwardness  of  the 
people. 

What  interested  and  surprised  me  more  than 
the  increasing  absence  of  shoes  among  the 
countrywomen  was  the  increasing  number  of 
women  whom  I  saw  engaged  in  rough  and  un- 
skilled labour  of  every  kind.  I  had  never  seen 
Negro  women  doing  the  sort  of  work  I  saw  the 
women  of  southern  Europe  doing.  When  I 
reached  Prague,  for  example,  I  noticed  a  load 
of  coal  going  through  the  streets.  A  man  was 
driving  it,  but  women  were  standing  up  behind 
with  shovels.  I  learned  then  that  it  was  the 
custom  to  employ  women  to  load  and  unload 
the  coal  and  carry  it  into  the  houses.  The 
driving  and  the  shovelling  were  done  by  the 
man,  but  the  dirtiest  and  the  hardest  part  of 
the  work  was  performed  by  the  women. 

In  Vienna  I  saw  hundreds  of  women  at  work 
as  helpers  in  the  construction  of  buildings;  they 


WOMEN  VmO  WORK  IN  EUROPE       309 

mixed  the  mortar,  loaded  it  in  tubs,  placed  It 
on  their  heads,  and  carried  it  up  two  or  three 
stories  to  men  at  work  on  the  walls.  The 
women  who  engage  In  this  sort  of  labour  wear 
little  round  mats  on  their  heads,  which  support 
the  burdens  which  they  carry.  Some  of  these 
women  are  still  young,  simply  grown  girls, 
fresh  from  the  countr}^,  but  the  majority  of 
them  looked  like  old  w^omen. 

Not  Infrequently  I  ran  across  women  hauling 
carts  through  the  streets.  Sometimes  there 
would  be  a  dog  harnessed  to  the  cart  beside 
them.  That,  for  example.  Is  the  way  In  which 
the  countrywomen  sometimes  bring  their  garden 
truck  to  market.  More  often,  however,  they 
will  be  seen  bringing  their  garden  products  to 
market  in  big  baskets  on  their  heads  or  swung 
over  their  shoulders.  I  remember,  while  I  was 
in  Budapest,  that,  in  returning  to  my  hotel 
rather  late  one  night,  I  passed  through  an  open 
square  near  the  market,  where  there  were 
hundreds  of  these  market  women  asleep  on  the 
sidewalks  or  In  the  street.  Some  of  them  had 
thrown  down  a  truss  of  straw  on  the  pavement 
under  their  wagons  and  gone  to  sleep  there. 
Others,  who  had  brought  their  produce  Into 
town  from  the  country  on  their  backs,  had  In 
many  cases  merely  put  their  baskets  on  the 
sidewalk,  lain  down,  thrown  a  portion  of  their 


3IO  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

skirts  up  over  their  heads,  and  gone  to  sleep. 
At  this  hour  the  city  was  still  wide  awake. 
From  a  nearby  beer  hall  there  came  the  sounds 
of  music  and  occasional  shouts  of  laughter. 
Meanwhile  people  were  passing  and  repassing 
in  the  street  and  on  the  sidewalk,  but  they  paid 
no  more  attention  to  these  sleeping  women 
than  they  would  if  they  had  been  horses  or 
cows. 

In  other  parts  of  Austria-Hungary  I  ran  across 
women  engaged  in  various  sorts  of  rough  and 
unskilled  labour.  While  I  was  in  Cracow,  in 
Austrian  Poland,  I  saw  women  at  work  in  the 
stone  quarries.  The  men  were  blasting  out  the 
rock,  but  the  women  were  assisting  them  in 
removing  the  earth  and  in  loading  the  wagons. 
At  the  same  time  I  saw  women  working  in  brick- 
yards. The  men  made  the  brick,  the  w^omen 
acted  as  helpers.  While  I  was  in  Cracow  one 
of  the  most  interesting  places  I  visited  in  which 
women  are  employed  was  a  cement  factory. 
The  man  in  charge  was  kind  enough  to  permit 
me  to  go  through  the  works,  and  explained  the 
process  of  crushing  and  burning  the  stone  used 
in  the  manufacture  of  cement.  A  large  part  of 
the  rough  work  in  this  cement  factory  is  done 
by  girls.  The  work  of  loading  the  kilns  is 
performed  by  them.  Very  stolid,  heavy,  and 
dirty-looking  creatures  they  were.     They  had 


WOMEN  WHO  WORK  IN  EUROPE       311 

none  of  the  freshness  and  health  that  I  noticed 
so  frequently  among  the  girls  at  work  in  the 
fields. 

While  I  was  studying  the  different  kinds  of 
work  which  women  are  doing  in  Austria-Hungary 
I  was  reminded  of  the  complaint  that  I  had 
heard  sometimes  from  women  in  America,  that 
they  were  denied  their  rights  in  respect  to  labour, 
that  men  in  America  wanted  to  keep  women 
in  the  house,  tied  down  to  household  duties. 

In  southern  Europe,  at  any  rate,  there  does 
not  seem  to  be  any  disposition  to  keep  women 
tied  up  in  the  houses.  Apparently  they  are 
permitted  to  do  any  kind  of  labour  that  men  are 
permitted  to  do;  and  they  do,  in  fact,  perform 
a  great  many  kinds  of  labour  that  we  in  America 
think  fit  only  for  men.  I  noticed,  moreover, 
as  a  rule,  that  it  was  only  the  rough,  unskilled 
labour  which  was  allotted  to  them.  If  women 
worked  in  the  stone  quarries,  men  did  the  part 
of  the  work  that  required  skill.  Men  used  the 
tools,  did  the  work  of  blasting  the  rock.  If 
women  worked  on  the  buildings,  they  did  only 
the  roughest  and  cheapest  kinds  of  work.  I  did 
not  see  any  women  laying  brick,  nor  did  I  see 
anywhere  women  carpenters  or  stone-masons. 

In  America  Negro  women  and  children  are 
employed  very  largely  at  harvest  time  in  the 
cotton-fields,  but  I  never  saw  in  America,   as 


312  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

I  have  seen  in  Austria,  women  employed  as 
section  hands  on  a  railway,  or  digging  sewers, 
hauling  coal,  carrying  the  hod,  or  doing  the 
rough  work  in  brickyards,  kilns,  and  cement 
factories. 

In  the  Southern  States  of  America  the  lowest 
form  of  unskilled  labour  is  that  of  the  men  who 
are  employed  on  what  is  known  as  public  works 
—  that  is  to  say,  the  digging  of  sewers,  building 
of  railways,  and  so  forth.  I  was  greatly  sur- 
prised, while  I  was  in  Vienna,  to  see  women  en- 
gaged side  by  side  with  men  in  digging  a  sewer. 
This  was  such  a  novel  sight  to  me  that  I  stopped 
to  watch  these  women  handle  the  pick  and 
shovel.  They  were,  for  the  most  part,  young 
women,  of  that  heavy,  stolid  type  I  have  re- 
ferred to.  I  watched  them  for  some  time,  and 
I  could  not  see  but  that  they  did  their  work  as 
rapidly  and  as  easily  as  the  men  beside  them. 
After  this  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  there 
was  not  anything  a  man  could  do  which  a  woman 
could  not  do  also. 

In  Poland  the  women  apparently  do  most  of 
the  work  on  the  farms.  Many  of  the  men  have 
gone  to  Vienna  to  seek  their  fortune.  Many, 
also,  have  gone  to  the  cities,  and  still  others  are 
in  the  army,  because  on  the  Continent  every 
able-bodied  man  must  serve  in  the  army.  The 
result  is  that  more  and  more  of  the  work  that 


WOMEN  WHO  WORK  IN  EUROPE       313 

was  formerly  performed  by  men  is  now  done 
by  women. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  sights  I  met  in 
Europe  was  the  market  in  Cracow.  This  mar- 
ket is  a  large  open  square  in  the  very  centre 
of  the  ancient  city.  In  this  square  is  situated 
the  ancient  Cloth  Hall,  a  magnificent  old  build- 
ing, which  dates  back  to  the  Middle  Ages,  when 
it  was  used  as  a  place  for  the  exhibition  of  mer- 
chandise, principally  textiles  of  various  kinds. 
On  the  four  sides  of  this  square  are  some  of  the 
principal  buildings  of  the  city,  including  the 
City  Hall  and  the  Church  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 
from  the  tall  tower  of  which  the  hours  are 
sounded  by  the  melodious  notes  of  a  bugle. 

On  market  days  this  whole  square  is  crowded 
with  hundreds,  perhaps  thousands,  of  market 
women,  who  come  in  from  the  country  in  the 
early  morning  with  their  produce,  remain  until 
it  is  sold,  and  then  return  to  their  homes. 

In  this  market  one  may  see  offered  for  sale 
anything  and  everything  that  the  peasant 
people  produce  in  their  homes  or  on  the  farms. 
Among  other  things  for  sale  I  noted  the  follow- 
ing: geese,  chickens,  bread,  cheese,  potatoes, 
salads,  fruits  of  various  sorts,  mushrooms,  bas- 
kets, toys,  milk,  and  butter. 

What  interested  me  as  much  as  anything  was 
to  observe  that  nearly  everything  that  was  sold 


314  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

in  this  market  was  carried  into  the  city  on  the 
backs  of  the  women.  Practically,  I  think,  one 
may  say  that  the  whole  city  of  Cracow,  with 
a  population  of  90,000  persons,  is  fed  on  the 
provisions  that  the  peasant  women  carry  into 
the  city,  some  of  them  travelling  as  far  as  ten 
or  fifteen  miles  daily. 

One  day,  while  driving  in  the  market  of 
Cracow,  our  carriage  came  up  with  a  vigorous 
young  peasant  woman  who  was  tramping,  bare- 
foot, briskly  along  the  highway  with  a  bundle 
swung  on  her  shoulder.  In  this  bundle,  I 
noticed,  she  carried  a  milk-can.  We  stopped, 
and  the  driver  spoke  to  her  in  Polish  and  then 
translated  to  my  companion.  Doctor  Park,  in 
German.  At  first  the  woman  seemed  appre- 
hensive and  afraid.  As  soon  as  we  told  her  we 
were  from  America,  however,  her  face  lighted 
up  and  she  seemed  very  glad  to  answer  all  my 
questions. 

I  learned  that  she  was  a  widow,  the  owner  of 
a  little  farm  with  two  cows.  She  lived  some- 
thing like  fourteen  kilometres  (about  ten  miles) 
from  the  city,  and  every  day  she  came  into  town 
to  dispose  of  the  milk  she  had  from  her  two 
cows.  She  did  not  walk  all  the  way,  but  rode 
half  the  distance  in  the  train,  and  walked  the 
other  half.  She  owned  a  horse,  she  said,  but 
the  horse  was  at  work  on  the  farm,  and  she 


WOMEN  WHO  WORK  IN  EUROPE       315 

could  not  afford  to  use  him  to  drive  to  town. 
In  order  to  take  care  of  and  milk  her  cows  and 
reach  the  city  early  enough  to  deliver  her  milk 
she  had  to  get  up  very  early  in  the  morning,  so 
that  she  generally  got  back  home  about  ten  or 
eleven  o'clock.  Then,  in  the  afternoon,  she  took 
care  of  the  house  and  worked  in  the  garden. 
This  is  a  pretty  good  example,  I  suspect,  of 
the  way  some  of  these  peasant  women  work. 

All  day  long  one  sees  these  women,  with  their 
bright-coloured  peasant  costumes,  coming  and 
going  through  the  streets  of  Cracow  with  their 
baskets  on  their  backs.  Many  of  them  are 
barefoot,  but  most  of  them  wear  very  high 
leather  boots,  which  differ  from  those  I  have 
seen  worn  by  peasant  women  in  other  parts  of 
Austria  and  Hungary  in  the  fact  that  they  have 
very  small  heels. 

I  had  an  opportunity  to  see  a  great  many 
types  of  women  in  the  course  of  my  journey 
across  Europe,  but  I  saw  none  who  looked  so 
handsome,  fresh,  and  vigorous  as  these  Polish 
peasant  women. 

It  is  said  of  the  Polish  women,  as  it  is  said  of 
the  women  of  the  Slavic  races  generally,  that 
they  are  still  living  in  the  mental  and  physical 
slavery  of  former  ages.  Probably  very  few  of 
them  have  ever  heard  of  women's  rights.  But, 
if  that  is  true,  it  simply  shows  how  very  little 


3i6  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

connection  such  abstract  words  have  with  the 
condition,  welfare,  and  happiness  of  the  people 
who  enjoy  the  freedom  and  independence  of 
country  life.  At  any  rate,  I  venture  to  say  that 
there  are  very  few  women,  even  in  the  higher 
ranks  of  labouring  women  in  England,  whose 
condition  in  life  compares  with  that  of  these  vig- 
orous, wholesome,  and  healthy  peasant  women. 

How  can  work  in  the  stifling  atmosphere  of 
a  factory  or  in  some  crowded  city  garret  com- 
pare v/ith  the  life  which  these  women  lead, 
working  in  the  fields  and  living  in  the  free  and 
open  country? 

The  emigration  to  America  has  left  an  enor- 
m.ous  surplus  of  women  in  Europe.  In  Eng- 
land, for  instance,  the  women  stand  in  the  pro- 
portion of  sixteen  to  fifteen  to  the  men.  In 
some  parts  of  Italy  there  are  cities,  it  is  said, 
where  all  the  able-bodied  men  have  left  the 
country  and  gone  to  America.  The  changes 
brought  by  emigration  have  not,  on  the  whole, 
it  seems  to  me,  afliected  the  life  of  women  favour- 
ably. But  the  same  thing  is  true  with  regard 
to  the  changes  brought  about  by  the  growth 
of  cities  and  the  use  of  machinery.  Men  have 
profited  by  the  use  of  machinery  more  than 
women.  The  machines  have  taken  away  from 
the  women  the  occupations  they  had  in  the 
homes,  and  this  has  driven  them  to  take  up 


WOMEN  WHO  WORK  IN  EUROPE       317 

other  forms  of  labour,  of  more  or  less  temporary 
character,  in  which  they  are  overworked  and 
underpaid. 

Everyw^here  we  find  the  women  In  Europe 
either  doing  the  obsolete  things  or  performing 
some  form  of  unskilled  labour.  For  example, 
there  are  still  one  hundred  thousand  people, 
mostly  w^omen,  in  East  London,  it  is  said,  who 
are  engaged  in  home  industries  —  in  other 
words,  sweating  their  lives  away  in  crowded 
garrets  trying  to  compete  with  machinery  and 
organization  in  the  making  of  clothes  or  artificial 
flowers,  and  in  other  kinds  of  work  of  this  same 
general  description. 

The  movement  for  w^omen's  suffrage  in  Eng- 
land, which  began  in  the  upper  classes  among  the 
women  of  the  West  End,  has  got  down,  to  some 
extent,  to  the  lower  levels  among  the  women 
who  work  with  the  hands.  Women's  suffrage 
meetings  have  been  held,  I  have  learned,  in 
Bethnal  Green  and  Whitechapel.  But  I  do 
not  believe  that  voting  alone  will  improve  the 
condition  of  workingwomen. 

There  must  be  a  new  distribution  of  the  occu- 
pations. Too  many  women  in  Europe  are  per- 
forming a  kind  of  labour  for  which  they  are 
not  naturally  fitted  and  for  which  they  have 
had  no  special  training.  There  are  too  many 
women  in  the  ranks  of  unskilled  labour.  My  own 


3i8  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

conviction  is  that  what  the  workingwomen  of 
Europe  need  most  is  a  kind  of  education  that 
will  lift  a  larger  number  of  them  into  the  ranks 
of  skilled  labour  —  that  will  teach  them  to  do 
something,  and  to  do  that  something  well. 

The  Negro  women  in  America  have  a  great 
advantage  in  this  respect.  They  are  every- 
where admitted  to  the  same  schools  to  which 
the  men  are  admitted.  All  the  Negro  colleges 
are  crowded  with  women.  They  are  admitted 
to  the  industrial  schools  and  to  training  in  the 
different  trades  on  the  same  terms  as  men.  One 
of  the  chief  practical  results  of  the  agitation  for 
the  suffrage  in  Europe  will  be,  I  imagme,  to  turn 
the  attention  of  the  women  in  the  upper  classes 
to  the  needs  of  the  women  in  the  lower  classes. 
In  Europe  there  is  much  work  for  women  among 
their  own  sex,  for,  as  I  have  said  elsewhere,  in 
Europe  the  man  farthest  down  is  woman. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE    ORGANIZATION    OF    COUNTRY    LIFE    IN 
DENMARK 

IN  EUROPE  the  man  whose  situation  most 
nearly  corresponds  to  that  of  the  Negro  in 
the  Southern  States  is  the  peasant.  I  had 
seen  pictures  of  peasants  before  I  went  to  Europe, 
but  I  confess  that  I  was  very  hazy  as  to  what  a 
peasant  was.  I  knew  that  he  was  a  small  farmer, 
like  the  majority  of  the  Negro  farmers  in  the 
Southern  States,  and  that,  like  the  Negro  farmer 
again,  he  had  in  most  cases  descended  from  a 
class  that  had  at  one  time  been  held  in  some  sort 
of  subjection  to  the  large  landowners,  the  dif- 
ference being  that,  whereas  the  peasant  had 
been  a  serf,  the  Negro  farmer  had  been  a  slave. 

In  regard  to  the  present  position  of  the  peasant 
in  the  life  about  him,  in  regard  to  his  manner  of 
living,  his  opportunities  and  ambitions,  I  had 
but  the  vaguest  sort  of  an  idea.  The  pictures 
which  I  had  seen  were  not  reassuring  in  this 
regard.  The  picture  which  made  the  deepest 
impression  upon  my  mind  was  that  of  a  heavy, 
stupid,  half-human  looking  creature,  standing 

319 


320  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

in  the  midst  of  a  desolate  field.  The  mud  and 
the  clay  were  clinging  to  him  and  he  was  leaning 
on  a  great,  heavy,  wrought-iron  hoe,  such  as 
were  formerly  used  by  the  Negro  slaves.  This 
picture  represented  about  my  idea  of  a  peasant. 
In  the  course  of  my  journey  through  Italy 
and  through  Austria-Hungary  I  saw  a  number 
of  individuals  who  reminded  me  of  this  and 
other  pictures  of  peasants  that  I  can  recall.  I 
saw,  as  I  have  already  said,  peasant  women 
sleeping,  like  tired  animals,  in  the  city  streets; 
I  saw  others  living  in  a  single  room  with  their 
cattle;  at  one  time  I  entered  a  little  cottage  and 
saw  the  whole  family  eating  out  of  a  single  bowl. 
In  Sicily  I  found  peasants  living  in  a  condition 
of  dirt,  poverty,  and  squalor  almost  beyond 
description.  But  everywhere  I  found  among 
these  people,  even  the  lowest,  individuals  who, 
when  I  had  an  opportunity  to  talk  with  them, 
invariably  displayed  an  amount  of  shrewd, 
practical  wisdom,  kindly  good  nature,  and 
common  sense  that  reminded  me  of  some  of  the 
old  Negro  farmers  with  whom  I  am  acquainted 
at  home.  It  is  very  curious  what  a  difference 
it  makes  in  the  impression  that  a  man  makes 
upon  you  if  you  stop  and  shake  hands  with  him, 
instead  of  merely  squinting  at  him  critically  in 
order  to  take  a  cold  sociological  inventory  of  his 
character  and  condition. 


COUNTRY  LIFE  IN  DENMARK         321 

Some  of  the  pleasantest  recollections  I  have 
of  Europe  are  the  talks  I  had,  through  an  inter- 
preter, of  course,  with  some  of  these  same 
ignorant  but  hard-working,  sometimes  barefoot, 
but  always  kindly  peasants.  The  result  was 
that  long  before  I  had  completed  my  journey  I 
had  ceased  to  take  some  of  the  pictures  of  peas- 
ants I  had  seen  literally.  I  discovered  that  the 
artist  whose  pictures  had  made  so  deep  an  im- 
pression upon  me  had  sought  to  compress  into 
the  figure  of  a  single  individual  the  misery  and 
wretchedness  of  a  whole  class;  that  he  had  tried, 
also,  to  bring  to  the  surface  and  make  visible 
in  his  picture  all  the  hardships  and  the  degrada- 
tion which  the  casual  observer  does  not  see, 
perhaps  does  not  want  to  see. 

It  was  not  until  I  reached  Denmark,  however, 
that  I  began  to  feel  that  I  had  really  begun  to 
know  the  European  peasant,  because  it  was  not 
until  I  reached  that  country  that  I  saw  what  the 
possibilities  of  the  peasant  were.  Before  this  I 
had  seen  a  man  who  was  struggling  up  under 
the  weight  of  ignorance  and  the  remains  of  an 
ancient  oppression.  In  Denmark,  however,  this 
man  has  come  to  his  own.  Peasants  already  own 
a  majority  of  the  land.  Three  fourths  of  the 
farms  are  in  their  hands  and  the  number  of  small 
farms  is  steadily  increasing.  In  Denmark  the 
peasant,  as  a  certain  gentleman  whom  I  met 


322  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

there  observed,  Is  not  only  free,  but  he  rules. 
The  peasant  is  the  leader  in  everything  that 
relates  to  the  progress  of  agriculture.  The 
products  of  the  cooperative  dairies,  the  coop- 
erative egg-collecting  and  pork-packing  socie- 
ties, organized  and  controlled  by  the  peasants, 
bring  in  the  markets  of  the  world  higher  prices 
than  similar  products  from  any  other  country 
in  Europe. 

The  peasants  are  now  the  controlling  influence 
in  the  Danish  Parliament.  When  I  was  there 
half  the  members  of  the  ministry  in  power  were 
peasants,  and  half  the  members  of  the  cabinet 
were  either  peasants  or  peasants'  sons. 

Let  me  add  that  there  is  a  very  close  connec- 
tion between  the  price  of  the  peasants'  butter 
and  the  influence  which  the  peasants  exercise  in 
politics.  For  a  good  many  years,  up  to  about 
1901,  I  believe,  the  most  influential  party  in 
Denmark  was  that  represented  by  the  large 
landowners.  Forty  years  ago  the  peasants  had 
all  the  political  rights  they  now  possess,  but  they 
did  not  count  for  much  in  political  matters.  At 
that  time  there  were  two  kinds  of  butter  in 
Denmark:  there  was  the  butter  made  in  the 
creameries  of  the  large  landowners,  called  gentle- 
men's estates,  and  there  was  the  butter  from  the 
small  farmers.  In  other  words,  there  was 
"gentleman's  butter"  and  "peasant's  butter." 


COUNTRY  LIFE  IN  DENMARK  323 

The  peasant  butter,  however,  was  only  worth 
in  the  market  about  one  half  as  much  as  that 
from  the  gentleman's  estate.  When  the  price 
of  peasant  butter  began  to  rise,  however,  the 
political  situation  began  to  change.  Year  by- 
year  the  number  of  cooperative  dairies  increased 
and,  year  by  year,  the  number  of  peasant  farmers 
in  parliament  multiplied.  In  other  words,  the 
Danish  peasant  has  become  a  power  in  Danish 
politics  because  he  first  became  a  leader  in  the 
industrial  development  of  the  country. 

Denmark  is  not  only  very  small,  about  one 
third  the  size  of  Alabama,  but  it  is  not  even 
especially  fertile.  It  is  an  extremely  level 
country,  without  hills,  valleys,  or  running 
streams  worth  speaking  of.  I  was  told  that  the 
highest  point  in  Denmark,  which  is  called 
"Heaven's  Hill,"  is  only  about  550  feet  above 
sea  level  —  that  is  to  say  about  half  as  high  as 
the  tower  of  the  Metropolitan  Building  in  New 
York.  As  a  result  of  this  a  large  part  of  the 
country  is  windswept  and,  in  northern  Jutland, 
where  the  Danish  peninsula  thrusts  a  thin  streak 
of  land  up  into  the  storm-tossed  waters  of  the 
North  Sea,  there  were,  forty  years  ago,  3,300 
square  miles  of  heather  where  not  even  a  tree 
would  grow.  Since  that  time,  by  an  elaborate 
process  of  physical  and  chemical  manipulation  of 
the  soil,  all  but  a  thousand  square  miles  have 


324  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

been  reclaimed.  The  result  Is  that  where  once 
only  lonely  shepherds  wandered, "  knitting  stock- 
ings," as  Jacob  Riis  says,  ''to  pay  the  taxes," 
there  are  now  flourishing  little  cities. 

Another  disadvantage  which  Denmark  suffers 
has  its  origin  in  the  fact  that  more  than  one 
third  of  the  country  consists  of  islands,  of  which 
there  are  no  less  than  forty-four.  In  going  from 
Copenhagen  to  Hamburg  the  train  on  which  I 
travelled,  in  crossing  from  one  Island  to  another 
and  from  there  to  the  peninsula,  was  twice  com- 
pelled to  make  the  passage  by  means  of  a  ferry, 
and  at  one  of  these  passages  we  were  on  the 
boat  for  about  an  hour  and  a  half. 

Riding  or  driving  through  Denmark  to-day 
is  like  riding  through  Illinois  or  any  other  of  the 
farming  regions  of  the  Middle  Western  States, 
with  the  exception  that  the  fields  are  smaller 
and  the  number  of  men,  cattle,  and  homesteads 
is  much  larger  than  one  will  see  in  any  part  of 
the  United  States.  I  have  heard  travellers 
through  Denmark  express  regret  because  with 
the  progress  of  the  country,  the  quaint  peasant 
costumes  and  the  other  characteristics  of  the 
primitive  life  of  the  peasant  communities,  which 
one  may  still  see  In  other  parts  of  Europe,  have 
disappeared.  One  of  my  fellow-travellers  tried 
to  make  me  believe  that  the  peasants  In  Europe 
were  very  much  happier  in  the  quiet,  simple  life 


COUNTRY  LIFE  IN  DENMARK         325 

of  these  small  and  isolated  farming  communities, 
each  with  its  own  picturesque  costumes,  its  in- 
teresting local  traditions,  and  its  curious  super- 
stitions. 

This  seems  to  be  the  view  of  a  good  many- 
tourists.  After  what  I  have  seen  in  Europe  I 
have  come  to  the  conclusion,  however,  that  the 
people  and  the  places  that  are  the  most  in- 
teresting to  look  at  are  not  always  the  happiest 
and  most  contented.  On  the  contrary,  I  have 
found  that  the  places  in  which  the  life  of 
the  peasants  is  most  interesting  to  tourists 
are  usually  the  places  that  the  peasants  are 
leaving  in  the  largest  numbers.  Emigration 
to  America  is  making  a  large  part  of  Europe 
commonplace,  but  it  is  making  a  better  place 
to  live  in. 

The  reorganization  of  agricultural  life  in  Den- 
mark has  come  about  in  other  ways  than  by 
emigration,  but  it  has  left  very  little  of  the 
picturesque  peasant  life,  and  most  of  what  re- 
mains is  now  kept  in  museums.  I  noticed  in 
going  through  the  country,  however,  two  types 
of  farm  buildings  which  seem  to  have  survived 
from  an  earlier  time.  One  of  these  consisted  of 
a  long,  low  building,  one  end  of  which  was  a  barn 
and  the  other  a  dwelling.  The  other  type  of 
building  was  of  much  the  same  shape,  except 
that  it  formed  one  side  of  a  court,  the  other  two 


326  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

sides   of   which   were   enclosed   by   barns    and 
stables. 

Upon  inquiry  I  learned  that  the  first  type  of 
dwelling  belonged  to  a  man  who  was  called  a 
husmaend,  or  houseman;  in  other  words,  a  small 
farmer  whose  property  consisted  of  his  house, 
with  a  very  small  strip  of  land  around  it.  The 
other  type  of  dwelling  belonged  to  a  man  who 
was  called  a  gaardmaend,  or  yardman,  because 
he  owned  enough  land  to  have  a  gaarde,  or  yard. 
In  Denmark  farmers  are  still  generally  divided 
into  huse  and  gaarde;  all  farmers  owning  less 
than  twenty-four  acres  are  called  "housemen," 
and  all  having  more  than  that  are  called  "yard- 
men," no  matter  how  their  buildings  are  con- 
structed. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  not  so  long  since 
conditions  in  Denmark  were  just  about  as 
primitive  as  they  are  now  in  some  other  parts  of 
Europe.  Jacob  Riis,  whom  I  learned,  while  I 
was  in  Denmark,  is  just  as  widely  known  and 
admired  in  Denmark  as  he  is  in  the  United 
States,  says  that  he  can  remember  when  con- 
ditions were  quite  different  among  the  homes 
of  the  people.  "For  example,"  he  said,  "I 
recall  the  time  when  in  every  peasant's  family 
it  was  the  custom  for  all  to  sit  down  and  eat  out 
of  the  same  bowl  in  the  centre  of  the  table  and 
then,  after  the  meal  was  finished,  each  would 


COUNTRY  LIFE  IN  DENMARK  327 

wipe  the  spoon  with  which  he  had  dipped  into 
the  common  bowl,  and  without  any  further 
ceremony  tuck  it  away  on  a  little  shelf  over  his 
head. 

*'To-day,"  he  added,  ''Danish  farmers  wash 
their  pigs.  The  udders  of  the  cows  are  washed 
with  a  disinfecting  fluid  before  milking.  When 
a  man  goes  to  milk  he  puts  on  a  clean  white 


suit." 


Not  only  is  this  true,  but  the  Danish  farmer 
grooms  his  cows,  and  blankets  them  when  it  is 
cold.  He  does  this  not  only  because  it  is  good 
for  the  cow,  but  because  it  makes  a  saving  in 
the  feed.  Although  Denmark  has  more  cattle 
in  proportion  to  the  number  of  inhabitants  than 
any  other  part  of  Europe,  I  noticed  very  few 
pastures.  On  the  contrary,  as  I  passed  through 
the  country  I  observed  long  rows  of  tethered 
cattle,  feeding  from  the  green  crops.  As  rapidly 
as  the  cows  have  consumed  all  the  green  fodder, 
usually  four  or  five  times  a  day,  a  man  comes 
along  and  moves  the  stakes  forward  so  that  the 
cattle  advance  in  orderly  way,  mowing  down 
the  crops  in  sections.  Water  is  brought  to  the 
cows  in  a  cart  and  they  are  milked  three  times 
a  day.  All  of  this  requires  a  large  increase  of 
labour  as  well  as  constant  study,  care,  and  atten- 
tion. In  other  words,  the  Danish  peasant  has 
become  a  scientific  farmer. 


328  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

One  difference  between  the  farmer  in  Den- 
mark and  in  other  countries  is  that,  whereas 
the  ordinary  farmer  raises  his  crops  and  ships 
them  to  the  market  to  be  sold,  the  Danish 
farmer  sells  nothing  but  the  manufactured 
product,  and  as  far  as  possible  he  sells  it  direct 
to  the  consumer.  For  example,  until  about 
1880  Denmark  was  still  a  grain  exporting  coun- 
try; in  recent  years,  however,  it  has  become  a 
grain  importing  country.  Grain  and  fodder  of 
various  kinds  to  the  value  of  something  like 
twenty-five  millions  of  dollars  are  now  annually 
purchased  by  Danish  farmers  in  Russia  and 
neighbouring  countries.  The  agricultural  prod- 
ucts thus  imported  are  fed  to  the  cattle,  swine, 
and  chickens  and  thus  converted  Into  butter, 
pork,  and  eggs.  The  butter  is  manufactured 
in  a  cooperative  dairy;  the  pork  is  slaughtered 
in  a  cooperative  pork-packing  house;  the  eggs 
are  collected  and  packed  by  a  cooperative  egg- 
collecting  association.  Then  they  are  either 
sold  direct,  or  are  turned  over  to  a  central  co- 
operative selling  association,  which  disposes  of 
the  most  of  them  in  England.  The  annual  ex- 
ports to  England  amount  to  nearly  ^90,000,000 
a  year,  of  which  ^51,000,000  is  for  butter,  nearly 
5530,000,000  for  bacon,  and  the  remainder  for 
eggs. 

As  a  gentleman  whom  I  met  in  Denmark  put 


COUNTRY  LIFE  IN  DENMARK         329 

It:  "If  Denmark,  like  ancient  Gaul,  were  divided 
into  three  parts,  one  of  these  would  be  butter, 
another  pork,  and  the  third  eggs."  It  is  from 
these  things  that  the  country,  in  the  main,  gets 
its  living.  There  are  in  Denm^ark,  as  elsewhere, 
railways,  newspapers,  telephones,  merchants, 
preachers,  teachers,  and  all  the  other  accessories 
of  a  high  civilization,  but  they  are  all  supported 
from  the  sale  of  butter,  pork,  and  eggs,  to  which 
ought  to  be  added  cattle,  for  Denmark  still  ex- 
ports a  considerable  amount  of  beef  and  live  cat- 
tle. The  export  of  live  cattle  has,  however,  fallen 
from  about  ^21,000,000  a  year  in  1880  to  about 
^7,000,000,  but  in  the  same  period  the  excess  of 
butter,  bacon,  and  eggs  has  risen  from  some- 
thing like  ^7,000,000  to  over  ^70,000,000.  Mean- 
while the  raw  production  of  the  Danish  farms 
has  increased  50  per  cent,  and  more,  the  dif- 
ference being  that,  instead  of  producing  grains 
for  the  manufacture  of  flour  and  meal,  the 
Danish  farmers  have  turned  their  attention  to 
producing  root  crops  to  feed  their  cattle.  This 
means  that  the  peasant  in  Denmark  is  not 
merely  a  scientific  farmer,  as  I  have  already 
suggested,  but  he  is  at  the  same  time,  in  a  small 
way,  a  business  man. 

The  success  of  the  peasant  farmer  in  Den- 
mark is,  as  I  have  already  suggested,  due  to  a 
very  large   extent   to   the  cooperative  societies 


330  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

which  manufacture  and  sell  his  farm  products. 
Through  the  medium  of  these  the  Danish  peas- 
ant has  become  a  business  man  —  I  might  almost 
say,  a  capitalist.  I  do  not  know  how  much 
money  is  invested  in  these  different  cooperative 
dairies,  egg-collectingand  pork-packing  concerns, 
but  all  Denmark  is  dotted  with  them,  and  the 
total  amount  of  money  invested  in  them  must 
be  considerable.  There  are,  for  example,  1,157 
cooperative  dairies,  with  a  membership  of 
157,000.  The  number  of  cooperative  pork- 
packing  societies  is  34,  with  a  membership  of 
95,000. 

As  soon  as  I  found  to  what  extent  the  peasants 
were  manufacturing  and  selling  their  own  prod- 
ucts, I  naturally  wanted  to  know  how  they  had 
succeeded  in  getting  the  capital  to  carry  on  these 
large  enterprises,  because  in  the  part  of  the 
country  from  which  I  hail  the  average  farmer 
not  only  has  no  money  to  put  into  any  sort  of 
business  outside  his  farm,  but  has  to  borrow 
money,  frequently  at  a  high  rate  of  interest,  to 
carry  on  his  farming  operations.  I  found  that 
when  the  farmers  in  Denmark  began  establish- 
ing cooperative  dairies  some  of  the  well-to-do 
farmers  came  together  and  signed  a  contract  to 
send  all  their  milk  which  they  were  not  able  to 
use  at  home  to  the  community  dairy.  Then  they 
borrowed  money  on  their  land  to  raise  the  money 


COUNTRY  LIFE  IN  DENMARK         331 

to  begin  operations.  In  borrowing  this  money 
they  bound  themselves  "jointly  and  severally," 
as  the  legal  phrase  is,  to  secure  the  payments  of 
the  money  borrowed  —  that  is,  each  man  be- 
came individually  responsible  for  the  w^hole  loan. 
This  gave  the  bank  which  made  the  loan  a  much 
better  security  than  if  each  individual  had  se- 
cured a  loan  on  his  own  responsibility,  and  in 
this  way  it  was  possible  to  provide  the  capital 
needed  at  a  very  moderate  rate  of  interest. 

When  the  farmer  brought  his  milk  to  the 
common  dairy  he  was  paid  a  price  for  it  a  little 
less  than  the  average  market  price.  This  added 
something  to  the  working  capital.  At  the  end 
of  the  year  a  portion  of  the  earnings  of  the  dairy 
were  set  aside  to  pay  interest  charges,  another 
portion  was  used  to  pay  off  the  loan,  and  the 
remainder  was  divided  in  profits  among  the 
members  of  the  association,  each  receiving  an 
amount  proportionate  to  the  milk  he  had  con- 
tributed. In  this  way  the  farmer  in  the  course 
of  some  years  found  himself  with  a  sum  of 
money,  equal  to  his  individual  share,  invested 
in  a  paying  enterprise  that  was  every  year  in- 
creasing in  value.  In  the  meanwhile  he  had 
received  more  for  his  milk  than  if  he  had  sold 
it  in  the  ordinary  way.  At  the  same  time,  out 
of  the  annual  profits  he  received  from  his  share 
in  the  dairy,  he  had,  perhaps,  been  able  to  put 


332  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

some  money  in  the  savings  bank.  The  savings 
banks  have  always  been  popular  and  have  played 
a  much  more  important  part  in  the  life  of  the 
people  than  they  have  elsewhere.  At  the  present 
time  the  average  amount  of  deposits  in  propor- 
tion to  the  number  of  inhabitants  is  larger  than 
is  true  of  any  other  country  in  the  world.  For 
example,  the  average  amount  of  deposits  in  the 
Danish  savings  banks  is  ^77.88;  in  England 
^20.62;  in  the  United  States  ^31.22.  At  the 
same  time  the  number  of  depositors  in  Danish 
savings  banks  is  considerably  larger  than  in  other 
countries.  For  example,  there  are  fifty-one 
depositors  for  every  hundred  persons  in  Den- 
mark. In  England  the  corresponding  number 
is  twenty-seven. 

The  most  remarkable  thing  about  the  Danish 
savings  banks,  however,  is  that  78  per  cent. — 
nearly  four  fifths  —  of  them  are  located  in  the 
rural  districts.  That  is  one  reason  that  Danish 
farmers  have  not  found  it  difficult  to  secure 
the  capital  they  needed  to  organize  and  carry 
on  their  cooperative  enterprises.  With  the 
money  which  they  had  saved  and  put  in  the 
savings  bank  from  the  earnings  in  the  coopera- 
tive dairies  they  were  able  to  borrow  money 
with  which  to  start  their  cooperative  slaughter- 
houses and  egg-collecting  societies. 

But  these  are  only  a  few  of  the  different  types 


COUNTRY  LIFE  IN  DENMARK         333 

of  co5perative  organizations.  A  Danish  peasant 
may  be  a  member  of  a  society  for  the  purchase 
of  tools,  implements,  and  other  necessaries,  of 
which  there  are  fifteen  in  Denmark,  with  a 
membership  numbering  between  sixty  and 
seventy  thousand.  He  may  belong  to  a  society 
for  exporting  cattle,  for  collecting  and  exporting 
eggs,  for  horse  breeding,  for  cattle,  sheep,  and 
pig  breeding.  Finally  he  may  belong  to  what 
are  known  as  "control"  societies,  organized  for 
the  purpose  of  keeping  account,  by  means  of 
careful  registration,  of  the  milk  yield  of  each  cow 
belonging  to  a  member  of  the  society,  and  of 
the  butter-fat  in  the  milk,  and  the  relation 
between  the  milk  yield  and  the  fodder  consumed. 
The  value  of  these  societies  is  found  in  the  fact 
that  the  annual  yield  per  cow  in  the  case  of 
members  of  the  control  society  was  67,760 
pounds,  while  in  the  case  of  cows  owned  outside 
of  the  society  the  amount  was  58,520  pounds. 

Through  the  medium  of  these  different  socie- 
ties, some  of  which  are  purely  commercial, 
while  others  exist  for  the  purpose  of  improving 
the  methods  and  technique  of  agriculture,  the 
farming  industry  has  become  thoroughly  organ- 
ized. First  of  all,  there  has  been  a  great  saving 
in  cost  of  handling  and  selling  farm  products. 
Not  many  years  ago  the  Danish  farmer  used  to 
send  his  butter  to  England  by  way  of  Hamburg, 


334  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

and  there  were  at  that  time,  I  have  been  told, 
no  less  than  six  middlemen  who  came  between 
the  farmer  and  his  customer.  Now  the  co- 
operative manufacturing  and  selling  societies 
sell  a  large  part  of  their  products  direct  to  the 
cooperative  purchasing  societies  in  England. 
In  this  way  the  farmer  and  his  customer,  the 
producer  and  distributer,  are  brought  together 
again,  not  exactly  in  the  way  in  which  they 
still  come  together  in  some  of  the  old-fashioned 
market  places  in  Europe,  but  still  in  a  way  to 
benefit  both  classes.  For  one  thing,  as  a  result 
of  this  organization  of  the  farming  industry, 
farming  methods  and  the  whole  technical  side 
of  the  industry  have  been  greatly  benefited.  A 
striking  evidence  of  this  fact  is  found  in  the 
following  statistics  showing  the  rapid  increase 
In  the  annual  yield  of  milk  per  cow  in  the  period 
from  1898  to  1908; 

Annual  yield 
per  cow  in 
Year  '        pounds 

1898 4480 

1901 4)884 

1904 5,335 

1907 5^689 

1908 5,874 

I  might  add,  as  showing  the  extent  to  which 
Danish  agriculture  has  been  organized  in  the 
way  I  have  described,  that  now  Denmark  pro- 


COUNTRY  LIFE  IN  DENMARK  335 

duces  about  253,000,000  pounds  of  butter  every 
year.  Of  this  amount  220,000,000  pounds  come 
from  the  cooperative  dairies. 

Behind  all  other  organizations  which  have 
served  to  increase  efficiency  of  the  farming 
population  are  the  schools,  particularly  the 
rural  high  schools  and  the  agricultural  schools. 
It  is  generally  agreed  in  Denmark  that  the  co- 
operative organizations  which  have  done  so 
much  for  the  farming  population  of  that  coun- 
try could  not  exist  if  the  rural  high  schools  had 
not  prepared  the  w^ay  for  them. 

I  have  described  at  some  length,  in  another 
place,  my  impressions  of  the  Danish  schools, 
and  shall  not  attempt  to  repeat  here  what  I  have 
said  elsewhere.*  I  would  like  to  emphasize,  how- 
ever, certain  peculiarities  about  these  schools 
that  have  particularly  impressed  me.  In  the 
first  place,  the  schools  that  I  visited,  and,  as  I 
understand,  practically  all  the  schools  that 
have  been  erected  for  the  benefit  of  the 
rural  population,  are  located  either  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  small  towns  or  in  the  open 
country.  In  other  words,  they  are  close  to 
the  land  and  the  people  they  are  designed  to 
help.  In  the  second  place,  and  this  is  just  as 
true  of  the  rural  hi^h  schools,  where  almost  no 


**'  What  I   Learned  About  Education   in   Denmark,"  chapter  XI.     "  My 
Larger  Education,"  Doubleday,  Page  &  Company,  191 1. 


336  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

technical  training  is  attempted,  as  it  is  of  the 
agricultural  schools,  the  courses  have  been  es- 
pecially worked  out,  after  years  of  experiment 
and  study,  to  fit  the  needs  of  the  people  for 
whom  they  are  intended.  There  is  no  attempt 
to  import  into  these  schools  the  learning  or  style 
or  methods  of  the  city  high  schools  or  colleges. 
There  is  in  fact,  so  far  as  I  know,  no  school  in 
existence  that  corresponds  to  or  of  which  the 
Danish  rural  high  school  is  in  any  way  a  copy. 

In  the  third  place,  all  these  schools  are  for 
older  pupils.  The  ages  of  the  students  range 
from  sixteen  to  twenty-four  years,  and,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  regular  courses,  conferences  and 
short  courses  for  the  older  people  have  been 
established,  as  is  the  case  with  many  of  the 
Negro  industrial  schools  in  the  South.  In  fact, 
everything  possible  is  done  to  wed  the  work 
in  the  school  to  the  life  and  work  on  the  land. 

Finally,  and  this  seems  to  me  quite  as  im- 
portant as  anything  else,  these  schools,  like  the 
cooperative  societies  to  which  I  have  referred, 
have  grown  up  as  the  result  of  private  initiative. 
The  high  schools  had  their  origin  in  a  popular 
movement  begun  more  than  fifty  years  ago  by 
Nicola  Frederik  Severin  Grundvig,  a  great 
religious  reformer,  who  is  sometimes  referred  to 
as  the  Luther  of  Denmark. 

Denmark  was  at  this  time  almost  in  despair.^ 


COUNTRY  LIFE  IN  DENMARK  337 

England  in  the  course  of  the  war  with  Napoleon 
had  destroyed  the  Danish  fleet,  and  later,  in 
1864,  Germany  had  taken  from  Denmark  two 
of  her  best  provinces  and  one  third  of  her  terri- 
tory. Grundvig  believed  that  the  work  of  re- 
constructing and  regenerating  Denmark  must 
begin  at  the  bottom.  He  preached  the  doctrine 
that  what  Denmark  had  lost  without  she  must 
regain  within,  and,  with  this  motto,  he  set  to 
work  to  develop  the  neglected  resources  of  the 
country  —  namely,  those  which  were  in  the 
people  themselves. 

The  work  begun  by  Grundvig  has  been  taken 
up  and  carried  on  In  the  same  spirit  by  those 
who  have  followed  him.  The  results  of  this 
movement  show  themselves  in  every  department 
of  life  in  Denmark  —  in  the  rapid  Increase  of 
Danish  exports  and  In  the  healthy  democratic 
spirit  of  the  whole  Danish  population.  The 
Danish  people  are  probably  the  best  educated 
and  best  informed  people  in  Europe.  This  is 
not  simply  my  Impression;  it  Is  that  of  more 
experienced  travellers  than  myself. 

On  my  way  from  Copenhagen  to  London  I 
fell  in  with  an  English  gentleman  who  was  just 
returning  from  five  weeks  of  study  and  observa- 
tion of  farming  conditions  in  Denmark.  From 
him  I  was  able  to  obtain  a  great  many  Interest- 
ing details  which  confirmed  my  own  impressions. 


338  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

He  told  me,  I  remember,  that  he  had  noticed 
in  the  cottage  of  a  peasant,  a  man  who  did  not 
farm  more  than  four  or  five  acres  of  land,  copies 
of  at  least  four  periodicals  to  which  he  was  a 
regular  subscriber. 

"More  than  that,"  he  continued, "the  farmers' 
journals  which  I  saw  in  the  peasants'  houses  I 
visited  seemed  to  me  remarkably  technical  and 
literary."  This  remark  struck  me,  because  it 
had  never  occurred  to  me  that  any  of  the  agri- 
cultural papers  I  had  seen  in  America  could 
be  described  as  "technical  and  literary."  If 
they  were  I  am  afraid  the  farmers,  at  least  the 
farmers  in  my  part  of  the  country,  would  not 
read  them. 

As  illustrating  the  general  intelligence  of 
the  farming  population,  this  same  gentleman 
told  me  that  he  had  at  one  time  called  upon  a 
creamery  manager  in  a  remote  district  whose 
salary,  in  addition  to  his  house,  which  was  pro- 
vided him,  was  about  twenty-four  shillings,  or 
six  dollars,  a  week.  In  his  house  he  found  a 
recent  copy  of  the  Studio^  a  well-known  English 
art  publication.  On  his  book  shelves,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  ordinary  publications  of  a  dairy 
expert,  he  had  caught  sight  of  volumes  in  Eng- 
lish, French,  German,  and  Swedish. 

I  was  impressed  with  the  fact  that  almost 
every  one  I  met  in  Denmark  seemed  to  be  able  to 


COUNTRY  LIFE  IN  DENMARK         339 

speak  at  least  three  languages  —  namely,  Ger- 
man, English,  and  Danish.  I  had  been  greatly 
surprised  on  the  Sunday  night  of  my  arrival  to 
meet  an  audience  of  fully  3,000  persons  and 
find  that  at  least  the  majority  of  those  present 
were  able  to  understand  my  speech.  In  fact 
I  had  not  spoken  ten  minutes  when  I  found 
myself  talking  as  naturally  and  as  easily  to  this 
Danish  audience  as  if  I  was  addressing  a  similar 
number  of  people  in  America.  The  people  even 
flattered  me  by  laughing  at  my  jokes,  and  in  the 
right  places.  I  am  convinced  that  any  one  who 
can  understand  an  American  joke  can  under- 
stand almost  anything  in  the  English  language. 

There  is  a  saying  to  the  eff'ect  that  if  you  see 
a  large  building  in  Germany  you  may  know 
that  it  Is  a  military  barracks,  in  England  it  is  a 
factory,  in  Denmark  a  school.  I  never  saw  such 
healthy,  happy,  robust  school  children  as  I  did 
in  Denmark,  and,  with  all  respect  to  Danish 
agriculture,  I  am  convinced  that  the  best  crop 
that  Denmark  raises  is  its  children. 

While  other  countries  have  sought  to  increase 
the  national  wealth  and  welfare  by  developing 
the  material  resources,  Denmark,  having  neither 
coal,  iron,  oil,  nor  any  other  mineral,  nothing 
but  the  land,  has  increased  not  only  the  national 
wealth  but  the  national  comfort  and  happiness 
by  improving  her  people.     While  other  nations 


340  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

have  begun  the  work  of  education  and,  I  was 
going  to  say,  civilization,  at  the  top,  Denmark 
has  begun  at  the  bottom.  In  doing  this  Den- 
mark has  demonstrated  that  it  pays  to  educate 
the  man  farthest  down. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

RECONSTRUCTING  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  LABOURER 
IN  LONDON 

AT  THE  end  of  my  long  journey  across 
Europe  I  returned  to  London.  I  had 
seen,  during  my  visit  to  Denmark, 
some  results  of  the  reorganization  of  country 
life.  In  this  chapter  I  want  to  tell  something 
of  what  I  saw  and  learned  in  London  of  the 
efforts  to  reconstruct  the  life  of  the  Underman 
in  the  more  complex  conditions  of  a  great  city. 
In  the  course  of  my  travels  through  various 
parts  of  the  United  States,  in  the  effort  to  arouse 
public  interest  in  the  work  we  are  trying  to  do 
for  the  Negro  at  Tuskegee,  I  have  frequently 
met  persons  who  have  inquired  of  me,  with 
some  anxiety,  as  to  what,  in  my  opinion,  could 
be  done  for  the  city  Negroes,  especially  that 
class  which  is  entering  in  considerable  numbers 
every  year  into  the  life  of  the  larger  cities  in 
the  Northern  and  Southern  States.  The  people 
who  asked  this  question  assumed,  apparently 
because  the  great  majority  of  the  Negro  popula- 
tion lives  on  the  plantations  and  in  the  small 

341 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

towns  of  the  South,  that  the  work  of  a  school 
like  the  Tuskegee  Institute,  which  is  located  in 
the  centre  of  a  large  Negro  farming  population, 
must  be  confined  to  the  rural  Negro  and  the 
South. 

In  reply  to  these  inquiries  I  have  sometimes 
tried  to  point  out  that  a  good  many  of  the 
problems  of  the  city  have  their  sources  in  the 
country  and  that,  perhaps,  the  best  way  to 
better  the  situation  of  the  city  Negro  is  to  im- 
prove the  condition  of  the  masses  of  the  race  in 
the  country.  To  do  this,  I  explained,  would  be 
to  attack  the  evil  at  its  root,  since  if  country 
life  were  made  more  attractive,  the  flow  of  popu- 
lation to  the  city  would  largely  cease. 

What  is  true  in  this  respect  of  the  masses  of 
the  Negroes  in  America  is  equally  true,  as  I 
discovered,  of  similar  classes  in  Europe.  Any 
one  who  will  take  the  trouble  to  look  into  the 
cause  of  European  emigration  will  certainly  be 
struck  with  the  fact  that  the  conditions  of 
agriculture  in  Europe  have  had  a  marked  effect 
on  the  growth  and  character  of  American  cities. 

This  fact  suggests  the  close  connection  be- 
tween country  conditions  and  the  city  problem, 
but  there  is  still  another  side  to  the  matter. 
The  thing  that  was  mainly  impressed  upon  me 
by  my  observation  of  the  lower  strata  of  London 
life  and  the  efforts  that  have  been  made  to  im- 


LIFE  OF  THE  LABOURER  IN  LONDON  343 

prove  it  was  this :  That  it  is  a  great  deal  simpler 
and,  in  the  long  run,  a  great  deal  cheaper  to 
build  up  and  develop  a  people  who  have  grown 
up  in  the  wholesome  air  of  the  open  country 
than  it  is  to  regenerate  a  people  who  have  lived 
all  or  most  of  their  lives  in  the  fetid  atmosphere 
of  a  city  slum.  In  other  words,  it  is  easier  to 
deal  with  people  who  are  physically  and  morally 
sound  than  with  people  who,  by  reason  of  their 
unhealthy  and  immoral  surroundings,  have  be- 
come demoralized  and  degenerate.  The  first 
is  a  problem  of  education;  the  second,  one  of 
reconstruction  and  regeneration. 

I  think  the  thing  that  helped  me  most  to 
realize  the  extent  and  the  difficulty  of  this  work 
of  regeneration  in  London  was  the  knowledge 
that  I  gained  while  there  of  the  multitude  of  in- 
stitutions and  agencies,  of  various  kinds,  which 
are  engaged  in  this  work. 

I  had  been  impressed,  during  my  visits  to 
Whitechapel  and  other  portions  of  the  East 
End  of  London,  with  the  number  of  shelters, 
homes,  refuges,  and  missions  of  all  kinds  which 
I  saw  advertised  as  I  passed  along  Whitechapel 
Road.  When  I  inquired  of  Rev.  John  Harris, 
organizing  secretary  of  the  Anti-Slavery  Society, 
who  had  at  one  time  himself  been  engaged  in 
mission  work  In  that  part  of  the  city,  whether  it 
were  possible  to  obtain  a  complete  list  of  all 


344  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

the  different  types  of  charities  and  institutions 
of  social  betterment  in  London,  he  placed  in  my 
hands  a  volume  of  nearly  seven  hundred  pages 
devoted  entirely  to  the  classification  and  descrip- 
tion of  the  various  charities,  most  of  which  were 
located  in  London. 

This  book,  which  was  called  the  "Annual 
Charities  Register  and  Digest,"  I  have  read  and 
studied  with  the  greatest  interest.  I  confess 
that  I  was  amazed  as  well  at  the  number  and 
variety  of  the  different  charities  as  at  the 
amount  of  time,  energy,  and  money  necessary 
to  keep  up  and  maintain  them. 

In  another  volume,  "London  Statistics,"  pub- 
lished by  the  London  County  Council,  I  found 
the  facts  about  London  charities  concisely  sum- 
marized. From  these  books  I  learned  that  there 
are  something  like  2,035  charitable  institutions 
of  various  kinds  in  London  alone.  Perhaps  I 
can  best  give  some  idea  of  the  character  of  these 
institutions,  a  number  of  which  date  back  to 
the  eighteenth  century  and  perhaps  to  still 
earlier  periods,  by  giving  some  details  from  these 
two  volumes. 

There  are  In  London,  for  example,  112  in- 
stitutions for  the  blind,  and  143  institutions 
which  give  medical  aid  in  one  form  or  another, 
for  which  the  total  amount  of  money  expended 
is  about  five  million  seven  hundred  thousand 


LIFE  OF  THE  LABOURER  IN  LONDON  345 

dollars  annually.  There  are  214  institutions 
for  the  care  of  convalescents,  for  which  the 
annual  expenditure  amounts  to  nearly  a  million 
and  three  quarters;  220  homes  for  children  and 
training  homes  for  servants,  which  are  main- 
tained at  an  annual  expense  of  over  four  million 
dollars  annually;  257  institutions  for  "general 
and  specific  relief,"  which  are  supported  at  an 
annual  cost  of  nearly  six  millions. 

There  are,  besides  these,  159  institutions  for 
"penitents,"  which  receive  an  income  of  a 
million  per  year;  156  institutions  for  social  and 
physical  improvement,  which  include  a  mul- 
titude of  the  most  varied  sorts,  as,  for  example, 
educational,  temperance,  and  Christian  asso- 
ciations, social  settlements,  boys'  brigades, 
societies  for  the  improvement  of  dwellings,  for 
the  improvement  of  national  health,  for  sup- 
pression of  the  white  slave  trafiic,  etc.  These 
156  institutions  are  maintained  at  an  expense 
of  something  over  three  million  and  a  half  dol- 
lars per  year. 

Finally,  there  are  47  so-called  "spiritual" 
institutions  which  are  engaged  in  propagating 
in  various  ways  and  in  various  forms  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  Bible  and  a  belief  in  the  Christian 
religion.  Although  the  spiritual  associations 
represent  less  than  one  seventeenth  of  the  total 
number  of  charitable  organizations,  nearly  one 


346  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

fourth  of  the  total  amount  of  the  charities  is 
expended  in  maintaining  them. 

According  to  the  best  estimate  that  can  be 
made,  the  amount  of  money  thus  expended  is 
not  less  than  fifty  millions  annually.  This  does 
not  include,  either,  the  sums  collected  and  ex- 
pended by  the  different  churches  —  the  Congre- 
gational, Catholic,  and  Established  churches. 
In  two  dioceses  of  the  Church  of  England  — 
namely,  those  of  London  and  Southwark  —  the 
sums  raised  in  this  way  amounted  to  more  than 
six  hundred  thousand  dollars. 

My  attention  was  especially  attracted  by  the 
number  of  shelters  and  refuges  where  homeless 
men,  women,  and  children  are  given  temporary 
aid  of  one  kind  and  another.  In  addition  to 
eight  shelters  maintained  by  the  Salvation  Army 
in  different  parts  of  the  city,  where  homeless 
men  and  women  are  able  to  obtain  a  bed  and 
something  to  eat,  there  is  the  asylum  for  the 
houseless  poor,  which  claims  to  have  given  nights' 
lodging  during  the  winter  months  to  80,000;  the 
Free  Shelter,  in  Ratcliffe  Street  East,  which  has 
given  nights'  lodging  to  125,000;  the  Ham  Yard 
Soup  Kitchen  and  Hospice,  which  in  1908-1909 
cared  for  343  for  an  average  of  sixteen  nights; 
the  Providence  Right  Refuge  and  Home,  with 
reports  of  nearly  2,100  lodgings,  suppers,  and 
breakfasts  every  week. 


LIFE  OF  THE  LABOURER  IN  LONDON  347 

In  addition  to  these  there  is  a  considerable 
number  of  refuges  and  shelters  for  various  classes 
of  persons  —  for  sailors,  soldiers,  Jews,  Asiatics, 
and  Africans;  for  ballet  girls;  ^^ ladies  who,  on 
account  of  their  conversion  to  the  Catholic 
faith,  are  obliged  to  leave  their  homes  or  sit- 
uations"; for  ''respectable  female  servants"; 
homeless  boys  and  girls,  governesses;  ''Protes- 
tant servants  while  they  are  seeking  employment 
in  the  families  of  the  nobility,"  and  for  "young 
women  employed  in  hotels  and  West  End  clubs." 

These  are  but  a  few  of  the  many  different 
homes,  lodging  houses,  and  shelters  with  which 
the  city  is  provided.  In  most  cases  it  is  stated  in 
connection  with  these  institutions  that  vagrants 
are  rigidly  excluded,  and  the  purpose  of  most  of 
them  seems  to  be  to  keep  respectableybutunfortu- 
nate  people  from  going  to  the  public  workhouses. 

In  addition  to  the  fifty  millions  and  more 
spent  in  charity,  nearly  twenty  millions  more 
is  expended  by  the  different  boroughs  of  London 
for  relief  to  the  poor  in  institutions  and  in 
homes.  Altogether,  it  costs  something  like  sev- 
enty million  dollars  annually  to  provide  for  the 
poor  and  unfortunate  of  the  city. 

In  the  Southern  States,  where  nine  of  the  ten 
million  Negroes  in  the  United  States  make  their 
homes,  practically  nothing  is  spent  in  charity 
upon  the  Negro.     In  two  or  three  states  re- 


348  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

formatories  have  been  established,  so  that 
Negro  children  arrested  for  petty  crimes  may  not 
be  sent  to  the  chain  gangs  and  confined  with 
older  and  more  hardened  criminals  employed 
in  the  mines  and  elsewhere.  At  the  last  session 
of  the  state  legislature  of  Alabama  a  bill  was 
passed  providing  that  the  state  should  take  over 
and  support  a  reformatory  for  coloured  children 
which  had  been  established  and  supported  by 
the  Negro  women  of  the  state.  In  several  of 
the  larger  Southern  cities  Young  Men's  Christian 
Associations  have  been  started  which  are  sup- 
ported by  charity,  and  in  certain  instances 
hospitals  have  been  established. 

The  only  purpose  for  which  the  Negro  has 
asked  or  received  philanthropic  aid  has  been 
for  the  support  of  education.  The  people  of 
the  United  States  have  been  generous  in  their 
contributions  to  Negro  education.  In  spite  of 
this  fact  the  income  of  all  the  Negro  colleges, 
industrial  schools,  and  other  institutions  of  so- 
called  higher  education  in  the  South  is  not  one 
fiftieth  part  of  what  is  expended  every  year  in 
London  in  charity  and  relief,  not  for  the  purpose 
of  education,  but  merely  to  rescue  from  worse 
disaster  the  stranded,  the  outcasts,  and  those 
who  are  already  lost.* 


*The  annual  income  of  twenty  Negro  colleges  in  the  United  States 
was,  in  1908,  $804,663. 


LIFE  OF  THE  LABOURER  IN  LONDON  349 

I  find,  as  most  people  do,  I  have  no  doubt, 
that  it  is  very  hard  to  realize  the  significance 
of  a  fact  that  is  stated  in  mere  abstract  figures. 
It  is  only  after  I  have  translated  these  abstrac- 
tions into  terms  of  my  own  experience  that  I  am 
able  to  grasp  them.  That  must  be  my  excuse 
here  for  what  may  seem  a  rather  far-fetched 
comparison. 

The  Negro  population  of  the  Southern  States 
Is  at  present  about  nine  million.  In  other 
words,  the  number  of  Negroes  in  the  South  is 
just  about  one  fourth  larger  than  the  population 
of  Greater  London,  w^hich  is  something  over 
seven  million.  Four  fifths  of  this  Southern 
Negro  population  still  live  on  the  plantations 
and  in  the  small  towns. 

From  time  to  time  thoughtful  and  Interested 
persons  —  some  of  them,  by  the  way,  English- 
men — -  have  visited  the  Southern  States,  talked 
with  the  w^hite  people  and  looked  at  the  Negroes. 
Then  they  have  gone  back  and  written  de- 
spondently, sometimes  pessimistically,  about  the 
Negro  problem.  I  wish  some  of  these  writers 
might  study  the  situation  of  the  races  in  the 
South  long  enough  to  determine  what  It  would 
be  possible  to  do  there,  not  with  seventy  nor 
even  fifty,  but  with  one  million  dollars  a  year, 
provided  that  money  were  used,  not  for  the 
purpose  of  feeding,  sheltering,  or  protecting  the 


350  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

Negro  population,  for  which  it  is  not  needed, 
but  in  educating  them;  in  building  up  the  public 
schools  in  the  country  districts;  in  providing  a 
system  of  high  schools,  industrial  and  agri- 
cultural schools,  such  as  exists,  for  example,  in 
Denmark;  in  extending  the  demonstration  farm- 
ing to  all  the  people  on  the  land,  and  in  en- 
couraging the  small  colleges  to  adapt  their 
teaching  to  the  actual  needs  of  the  people  so 
that  in  the  course  of  time  Negro  education  in 
the  South  could  be  gradually  organized  and 
coordinated  into  a  single  coherent  system. 

Perhaps  I  can  illustrate  in  a  broad  way  the 
difference  in  the  situation  of  the  poor  man  in 
the  complex  life  of  a  great  city  like  London  and 
that  of  a  similar  class  in  the  simpler  conditions 
of  a  comparatively  rural  community,  by  a 
further  comparison.  The  state  of  Alabama  is 
nearly  as  large  as  England  and  Wales  combined. 
It  had,  in  1900,  a  little  more  than  one  third  the 
present  population  of  what  Is  known  as  "Ad- 
ministrative London,"  which  means  a  city  of 
4,720,729.  Of  this  population  there  were,  on 
an  average,  139,916  paupers.  In  Alabama,  with 
a  population  In  1900  of  1,828,696,  there  were, 
in  1905, 771  paupers  In  almshouses,  of  whom  414 
were  white  and  357  Negroes.  In  other  words, 
while  in  London  there  were  nearly  three  paupers 
for  every  one  thousand  of  the  population,  in 


LIFE  OF  THE  LABOURER  IN  LONDON  351 

Alabama  there  were  a  little  more  than  four 
paupers  for  every  ten  thousand  of  the  popula- 
tion. This  does  not  Include  the  persons  con- 
fined in  asylums  or  those  who  are  assisted  in 
their  homes.  In  Alabama  the  number  of 
paupers  cared  for  in  this  way  is  very  small.  As 
compared  with  the  2,000  charitable  institutions 
in  London,  there  were  twenty  such  institutions  In 
Alabama  in  1904.  Three  of  these,  a  hospital, 
an  old  folks'  home  and  orphan  asylum,  and  a 
school  for  the  deaf  and  blind  were  for  Negroes. 

I  have  quoted  these  figures  to  show  the  con- 
trast between  conditions  In  a  large  city  and  a 
comparatively  rural  community.  But  Alabama 
contains  three  cities  of  considerable  size,  which 
may  account  for  a  fairly  large  number  of  Its 
paupers,  so  that  I  suspect  that  if  the  compari- 
son were  strictly  carried  out  it  would  be  found 
that  pauperism  is  a  good  deal  more  of  a  city 
disease  than  it  seems. 

The  institutions  in  London  to  which  I  have 
referred,  whether  managed  by  private  phi- 
lanthropy or  by  the  public,  are  mainly  main- 
tained for  the  sake  of  those  who  have  already 
fallen  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  They  are 
for  the  sick  and  wounded,  so  to  speak.  In 
recent  years  a  movement  has  been  steadily 
gaining  ground  which  seeks  to  get  at  the  source 
of  this  city  disease,  and  by  improving  the  con- 


352  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

ditions  of  city  life  do  away  to  some  extent  with 
the  causes  of  it. 

The  work  of  reorganizing  the  life  of  the  poorer 
classes  in  London  seems  to  have  made  a  be- 
ginning some  fifty  or  sixty  years  ago.  The 
condition  of  the  working  population  at  that 
time  has  been  described  in  the  following  words 
by  Mr.  Sidney  Webb,  who  has  made  a  profound 
study  of  the  condition  of  the  labouring  classes 
in  London: 

Two  thirds  of  the  whole  child  population  was  growing  up 
not  only  practically  without  schooling  or  religious  influences  of 
any  kind,  but  also  indescribably  brutal  and  immoral;  living  amid 
the  filth  of  vilely  overcrowded  courts,  unprovided  with  water 
supply  or  sanitary  conveniences,  existing  always  at  the  lowest 
level  of  physical  health,  and  constantly  decimated  by  disease; 
incessantly  under  temptation  by  the  flaring  gin  palaces  which 
alone  relieve  the  monotony  of  the  mean  streets  to  which  they 
were  doomed;  graduating  almost  inevitably  into  vice  and  crime 
amid  the  now  incredible  street  life  of  an  unpoliced  metropolis.* 

The  first  thing  attempted  was  to  provide 
public  education  for  those  who  were  not  able 
to  attend  private  schools,  and,  as  one  writer 
says,  "rescue  the  children  of  the  abyss."  It 
was  in  this  rescue  work  that  England's  public 
schools  had  their  origin.  These  schools,  begun 
in  this  way,  steadily  gained  and  broadened 
until  now  London  has  an  elaborate  system 
of  continuation,   trade   and    technical    schools, 

♦London  Education,  Nineteenth  Century,  October  1903,  p.  563. 


LIFE  OF  THE  LABOURER  IN  LONDON  353 

culminating  in  the  reorganized  University  of 
London.  This  system  is  by  no  means  per- 
fected; it  still  is  in  process,  but  it  gives  the  out- 
lines of  a  broad  and  generous  educational  plan, 
equal  in  conception  and  organization  at  least  to 
the  needs  of  the  largest  city  in  the  world. 

London  already  has,  for  example,  327  night 
schools,  with  127,130  pupils,  in  which  young 
men  and  women  who  have  left  the  day  schools 
may  continue  their  studies  at  night  or  perfect 
themselves  in  some  branch  of  their  trade. 

Cooking,  household  management,  laundry 
work,  and  iron  work  are  taught  in  more  than 
half  the  elementary  schools  of  London.  The 
London  County  Council  supports  fourteen 
schools  which  give  instruction  in  the  arts  and 
crafts,  and  in  the  trades.  In  addition,  the 
Government  lends  its  aid  to  something  like 
sixty-one  other  institutions,  with  an  attendance 
of  over  6,000,  in  which  technical  and  trade 
education  of  some  kind  is  given.  A  number  of 
these  schools,  like  the  Shoreditch  Technical 
Institute  and  the  Brixton  School  of  Building, 
are  devoted  to  a  single  trade  or  group  of  allied 
trades.  In  the  Shoreditch  Institute  boys  are 
fitted  for  the  furniture  trade.  Half  their  time 
is  given  to  academic  studies  and  half  to  work 
in  the  trade.  At  the  Brixton  School  instruc- 
tion is  given  in  bricklaying  and  masonry,  plumb- 


354  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

ing,  painting,  architecture,  building,  and  sur- 
veying. In  other  schools  pupils  are  given  in- 
struction in  photo-engraving  and  lithographing, 
in  fine  needlework  and  engraving,  bookbinding, 
and  in  many  other  crafts  requiring  a  high  grade 
of  intelligence  and  skill. 

With  the  growth  of  these  schools  the  idea  has 
been  gaining  ground  that  it  is  not  sufficient  to 
rescue  those  who,  through  misfortune  or  disease, 
are  unable  to  support  themselves;  that  on  the 
contrary,  instead  of  waiting  until  an  individual 
has  actually  fallen  a  victim  to  what  I  have  called 
the  "city  disease,"  measures  of  prevention  be 
taken  againstpauperism  as  against  other  diseases. 

Along  with  this  changed  point  of  view  has 
come  the  insight  that  the  efficiency  of  the  nation 
as  a  whole  depends  upon  its  ability  to  make  the 
most  of  the  capacities  of  the  whole  population. 

"Indeed,"  as  Mr.  Webb,  the  writer  I  have 
already  quoted,  says,  "we  now  see  with  painful 
clearness  that  we  have  in  the  long  run,  for  the 
maintenance  of  our  preeminent  industrial  posi- 
tion in  the  world,  nothing  to  depend  on  except 
the  brains  of  our  people.  Public  education 
has  insensibly,  therefore,  come  to  be  regarded, 
not  as  a  matter  of  philanthropy,  undertaken 
for  the  sake  of  the  children  benefited,  but,  as  a 
matter  of  national  concern,  undertaken  in  the 
interest  of  the  community  as  a  whole." 


LIFE  OF  THE  LABOURER  IN  LONDON  355 

After  the  schools,  the  next  direction  in  which 
an  attempt  was  made  to  improve  the  condition 
of  the  poor  in  London  was  in  the  matter  of  hous- 
ing. The  Board  of  Works  first  and  the  London 
County  Council  afterward  began  some  forty 
years  ago  buying  vast  areas  in  the  crowded 
parts  of  London,  clearing  them  of  the  disreput- 
able buildings,  and  then  offering  them  for  sale 
again  to  persons  who  would  agree  to  erect  on 
them  sanitary  dwellings  for  the  working  classes. 
The  Metropolitan  Board  of  Works,  for  example, 
purchased  forty-two  acres  in  different  parts  of 
the  city  for  clearance.  After  the  buildings  had 
been  torn  down  and  the  sites  resold,  it  was 
estimated  that  the  net  cost  would  be  about 
£1 ,320,619  or  about  ^6,603,395.  There  lived  on 
this  area  22,872  persons,  so  that  the  net  cost 
of  cleaning  up  this  area  and  moving  the  popula- 
tion into  better  quarters  was  something  like 
^281  for  each  individual  inhabitant. 

Then  the  London  County  Council  took  up 
the  work  and  it  decided  to  begin  building  its 
own  houses.  Finally,  a  law  was  passed  that 
the  buildings  so  created  should  rent  for  more 
than  the  rents  prevailing  in  the  district  and 
should  pay  the  cost  of  maintenance,  3  per  cent, 
on  the  capital  invested. 

On  these  terms  the  Metropolitan  Board  of 
Works  and  the  London  County  Council  have 


3S6  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

cleared  in  various  parts  of  Central  London  an 
area  of  nearly  eighty-six  acres,  containing  a 
population  of  41,584,  at  a  cost  which  averages 
about  ^250  per  person.  On  the  property  thus 
acquired  the  London  County  Council  had  in 
1907  erected  8,223  tenements  with  22,331  rooms. 
At  this  time,  1907,  there  were  projected  dwell- 
ings containing  a  total  of  28,000  rooms,  which, 
with  those  already  erected,  make  a  total  of 
over  50,000  rooms.  These  tenements  rent 
on  an  average  of  about  70  cents  a  week  per 
room,  so  that  the  city  of  Greater  London 
has  an  annual  income  of  nearly  ^760,000  from 
its  rents  alone,  on  which  the  city  earned 
in  1901,  after  all  charges  were  paid,  a  profit 
of  ^10,000. 

At  first  the  County  Council  merely  sought 
to  replace  the  buildings  which  it  removed,  and 
the  new  buildings  occupied  the  site  of  the  older 
ones.  On  or  near  Boundary  Street,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Bethnal  Green,  twenty-two  acres 
were  cleared  of  slums  and  covered  with  model 
dwellings,  provided  with  wash  houses,  club 
rooms  and  every  moden  appliance  for  health 
and  comfort.  The  sad  thing  about  it  was  that 
after  the  buildings  were  completed  and  occupied 
it  was  found  that  only  eleven  of  the  former  in- 
habitants remained.  They  had  poured  down 
into  slums  in  the  older  part  of  the  city  and  in- 


LIFE  OF  THE  LABOURER  IN  LONDON  357 

creased  the  population  In  those  already  over- 
crowded regions. 

Meanwhile,  In  other  parts  of  the  country- 
private  enterprise  and  private  philanthropy 
had  gone  In  advance  of  the  London  County 
Council.  Outside  of  Birmingham  and  Liver- 
pool garden  cities  had  been  erected  In  which 
every  family  was  provided  with  an  acre  of  land, 
on  some  of  which  men  employed  In  the  factories, 
when  they  were  not  at  work,  increased  their 
earnings  in  some  instances  as  much  as  £50,  or 
^250,  a  year. 

Then  the  County  Council  began  to  acquire 
tramways  radiating  out  in  every  direction  into 
the  suburbs.  At  the  present  time  the  city  owns 
something  over  a  hundred  miles  of  tramway 
within  the  city,  and  of  the  300  miles  or  more  in 
Greater  London  the  majority  is  either  owned  by 
London  or  the  suburban  boroughs. 

At  the  ends  of  these  lines  the  London  County 
Council,  and  more  frequently  private  individu- 
als, have  erected  model  dwellings  on  a  large  scale 
and  are  thus  gradually  moving  the  city  popula- 
tion into  the  country. 

In  the  meantime  much  has  been  done  in 
recent  years  to  increase  the  number  of  play- 
grounds and  breathing  spaces,  to  supply  bath- 
rooms, wash  houses  and  other  conveniences 
which  make  it  possible  to  keep  the  city  and 


358  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

people  in  a  healthful  and  sanitary  condition. 
In  many  of  the  principal  streets  in  London  I 
noticed  signs  directing  the  people  to  public  baths 
which  were  located  somewhere  underneath  the 
street.  The  different  boroughs  contributed  in 
1907  ^738,545  in  taxes  to  support  these  public 
baths  and  bath  houses,  and  at  the  same  time  the 
people  of  London  paid  over  ^400,000  for  bath 
tickets  and  ^85,000  for  laundry  tickets  in  order 
to  make  use  of  these  public  conveniences. 

Inner  London,  not  including  suburbs,  has 
now  an  area  of  6,588  acres  In  parks  large  and 
small,  upon  which  the  city  has  expended  a 
capital  of  ^9,125,910  and  upon  which  it  expends 
annually  the  sum  of  ^548,065  or  thereabout. 

Now,  the  thing  that  strikes  me  about  all  this 
is  that  these  vast  sums  of  money  which  London 
has  spent  in  clearing  up  its  slums,  in  providing 
decent  houses,  wider  streets,  breathing  spaces, 
bath  houses,  swimming  pools,  and  washrooms 
have  been  spent  mainly  on  sunshine,  air,  and 
water,  things  which  any  one  may  have  without 
cost  in  the  country. 

I  visited  some  of  these  wash  houses  and  saw 
hundreds  of  women  who  had  come  in  from  the 
surrounding  neighbourhood  to  do  their  week's 
washing.  They  were  paying  by  the  hour  for 
the  use  of  the  municipal  washtubs  and  water, 
but  I  am  sure  they  were  not  any  better  provided 


LIFE  OF  THE  LABOURER  IN  LONDON  359 

for  in  this  respect  than  the  coloured  women  of 
the  South  who  go  down  on  sunshiny  days  to 
the  brook  to  do  their  washing,  boiling  their 
clothes  in  a  big  iron  kettle.  I  saw  the  boys  in 
some  of  the  swimming  pools,  but  I  did  not  see 
any  of  them  that  seemed  happier  than  the  boy 
who  goes  off  to  the  brook  with  his  hook  and 
line  and  by  the  way  takes  a  plunge  in  an  old- 
fashioned  swimming  hole. 

Thus  it  is  that  London  seems  to  have  found 
that  the  best  if  not  the  only  way  to  solve  the 
city  problem  is  by  transporting  its  population 
to  the  country,  settling  them  in  colonies  in  the 
suburbs,  where  they  may  obtain,  at  an  enormous 
expense,  what  four  fifths  of  the  Negro  popula- 
tion in  this  country  already  have  and  what  they 
can  be  taught  to  value  and  keep  if  some  of  the 
money  that  is  now  expended  or  which  will  be 
expended  on  the  city  slums  were  spent  in  giving 
the  people  on  the  farm  some  of  the  advantages 
which  the  city  offers,  the  principal  one  of  which 
is  a  chance  for  an  education. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

JOHN  BURNS  AND  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN  IN 
LONDON 

I  HAD  heard  a  good  deal,  from  time  to 
time,  about  John  Burns  before  I  went 
to  Europe,  and  when  I  reached  Lon- 
don I  took  advantage  of  the  first  opportunity 
that  offered  to  make  my  acquaintance  with  him 
a  personal  one.  This  meeting  was  a  special 
good  fortune  to  me  at  the  time  because,  as  I 
already  knew,  there  is,  in  all  probability,  no 
one  in  England  who  better  understands  the 
hopes,  ambitions,  and  the  prospects  of  the 
labouring  classes  than  the  Rt.  Hon.  John  Burns, 
President  of  the  Local  Government  Board, 
himself  the  first  labouring  man  to  become  a 
member  of  the  British  Cabinet. 

John  Burns  was  born  in  poverty  and  went 
to  work  at  the  age  of  ten.  He  had  known  what 
it  is  to  wander  the  streets  of  London  for  weeks 
and  months  looking  for  work.  He  had  an 
experience  of  that  kind  once  after  he  had  lost 
his  job  because  he  made  a  Socialistic  speech. 
Having  learned  by  experience  the  life  of  that 

360 


JOHN  BURNS  361 

industrial  outcast,  the  casual  labourer,  he  or- 
ganized in  1889  the  great  dock  labourers'  strike, 
which  brought  together  into  the  labour  unions 
100,000  starving  and  disorganized  labourers 
who  had  previously  been  shut  out  from  the 
protection  of  organized  labour.  Besides  that, 
he  has  been  an  agitator;  was  for  years  a  marked 
man,  and  at  one  time  gained  for  himself  the 
name  of  the  ''man  with  the  red  flag."  He  has 
been  several  times  arrested  for  making  speeches, 
and  has  once  been  imprisoned  for  three  months 
on  the  charge  of  rioting. 

Meanwhile  he  had  become  the  idol  of  the 
working  masses  and  even  won  the  admiration 
and  respect  of  the  leaders  of  public  opinion. 
He  was  elected  in  1889  to  the  first  London 
County  Council,  where  he  worked  side  by  side 
with  such  distinguished  men  as  Frederic  Har- 
rison and  Lord  Rosebery.  He  was  chosen  a 
member  of  parliament  in  1890,  where  he  became 
distinguished  for  the  store  of  practical  infor- 
mation which  he  accumulated  during  his  eigh- 
teen years  of  practical  experience  in  the  London 
County  Council. 

When  he  w^as  twenty-one  years  of  age  Mr. 
Burns  went  as  an  engineer  to  Africa,  where  he 
spent  a  year  among  the  swamps  of  the  Lower 
Niger,  occasionally  fighting  alligators  and  de- 
voting   his    leisure    to    the    study    of    political 


362  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

economy.  When  he  returned  he  spent  the 
money  he  had  saved  in  Africa  in  six  months  of 
travel  and  study  in  Europe. 

Speaking  of  what  he  learned  in  Africa,  Mr. 
Burns  once  said:  "You  talk  of  savagery  and 
misery  in  heathen  lands,  but  from  my  own  ex- 
perience I  can  tell  you  that  there  is  more  of  all 
these,  and  more  degradation  of  women,  in  the 
slums  of  London  than  you  will  see  on  the  West 
Coast  of  Africa." 

He  has  had  a  wider  experience  than  most 
men  with  mobs,  for  he  has  not  only  led  them, 
but  in  1900  he  defended  himself  with  a  cricket 
bat  for  two  days  in  his  home  on  Lavender  Hill, 
Battersea,  against  a  mob  said  to  number  10,000 
which  hurled  stones  through  the  windows  and 
tried  to  batter  down  the  door  of  his  house  be- 
cause he  had  denounced  the  Boer  War  in  par- 
liament. 

In  1906,  after  he  had  been  successful  in  writ- 
ing something  like  one  hundred  labour  laws  into 
the  acts  of  parliament,  he  accepted  the  position 
of  President  of  Local  Government  and  then 
became,  as  I  have  said,  the  first  labouring  man 
to  accept  a  place  in  the  British  Cabinet. 

In  reply  to  the  criticisms  which  were  offered 
when  he  accepted  this  high  and  responsible 
position  in  the  government,  Mr.  Burns  said: 
"I  had  to  choose  whether,   for  the  next  ten 


JOHN   BURNS  363 

years,  I  should  Indulge,  perhaps,  in  the  futility 
of  faction,  possibly  In  the  impotence  of  intrigue, 
or  whether  I  should  accept  an  office  which  in 
our  day  and  generation  I  can  make  useful  of 
good  works."  I  have  noted  this  statement 
because  this  is  a  choice  which  most  reformers 
and  agitators  have  to  make  sooner  or  later. 

He  recognized,  as  he  said,  that  "the  day  of 
the  agitator  was  declining  and  that  of  the  ad- 
ministrator had  begun,"  and  he  did  not  shrink 
from  accepting  a  position  where  he  became  re- 
sponsible for  administering  laws  he  had  helped 
to  make.  In  his  present  position  as  the  head 
of  the  Local  Government  Board  Mr.  Burns  is 
probably  doing  more  than  any  other  man  to 
Improve  the  situation  of  the  poor  man  in  Lon- 
don and  In  the  other  large  cities  of  England. 

It  is  a  rare  thing  for  a  man  who  began  life 
In  poverty  to  find  himself  in  middle  life  in  a 
position  of  such  power  and  usefulness  as  the 
head  of  one  great  branch  of  the  British  Gov- 
ernment occupies.  It  is  still  more  remark- 
able, however,  that  a  man  who  began  life  as  an 
agitator,  the  representative  of  the  unemployed, 
the  most  helpless  and  unfortunate  class  in  the 
community,  should  find  himself,  a  comparatively 
few  years  later,  charged  with  the  task  of 
carrying  into  effect  the  reforms  which  he  had 
preached  from  the  prisoner's  dock  in  a  police 


364  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

court.  It  is  all  the  more  fortunate  for  England 
that  the  Government  has  found  a  man  with 
these  qualifications,  who  has  at  the  same  time 
the  training  and  qualities  of  a  statesman,  to 
carry  the  reforms  into  effect.  As  Mr.  Burns 
himself  once  said:  "Depend  upon  it,  there  are 
no  such  places  for  making  a  public  man  as 
Pentonville  Prison  and  the  London  County 
Council. " 

To  me,  however,  the  most  surprising  thing 
about  it  all  is  that  a  man  with  his  history  and 
qualifications  should  have  found  his  way,  by 
the  ordinary  methods  of  politics,  into  a  position 
he  is  so  well  fitted  to  fill.  It  suggests  to  me 
that,  in  spite  of  all  the  misery  that  one  still 
may  see  in  London,  in  England,  at  least,  there 
is  hope  for  the  man  farthest  down. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  in  this  chapter  to  write 
a  biography  of  John  Burns,  but  rather  to  de- 
scribe what  I  saw,  under  his  direction,  of  what 
has  already  been  done  in  London  in  the  work 
of  "reconstruction,"  to  which  I  have  already 
referred.  It  seemed  to  me,  however,  that  it  was 
not  out  of  place  to  say  something,  by  way  of 
introduction,  in  regard  to  the  man  who  is, 
perhaps,  as  much  if  not  more  than  any  one 
else  responsible  for  the  work  now  going  on,  and 
whose  life  is  connected  in  a  peculiar  way  with 
that  part  of  the  city  I  had  opportunity  to  visit 


JOHN  BURNS  36s 

and  with  the  improvements  that  have  been 
made  there. 

John  Burns  was  born  and  still  lives  in  Bat- 
tersea,  a  quarter  of  the  city  inhabited,  for  the 
most  part,  by  artisans,  mechanics,  and  labourers 
of  various  kinds,  with  a  sprinkling  of  gypsy 
pedlers  and  the  very  poor.  Battersea  is  di- 
rectly across  the  river  from,  and  in  plain  sight 
of,  the  Parliament  Buildings,  and  there  is  a 
story  to  the  effect  that,  as  he  was  coming  home 
one  winter  night,  helping  his  mother  carry 
home  the  washing  by  which  she  supported  her- 
self and  family,  they  two  stopped  within  the 
shadow  of  those  buildings  to  rest.  Turning  to 
his  mother  the  boy  said:  "Mother,  if  ever  I 
have  health  and  strength  no  mother  shall  have 
to  work  as  you  do." 

John  Burns  has  health  and  strength,  and  is 
now  making  a  brave  effort  to  keep  that  promise 
to  his  mother.  Aside  from  Colonel  Roosevelt, 
I  do  not  think  I  ever  saw  a  man  who  seemed  his 
equal  in  vigour  of  mind  and  body;  who  seemed 
able  to  compress  so  much  into  a  short  space  of 
time;  or  one  who  goes  at  the  task  before  him 
with  a  greater  zest.  In  all  England  I  do  not 
believe  there  is  a  man  who  works  harder,  ac- 
complishes more  for  the  good  of  his  country 
and  the  world,  or  one  who  is  happier  in  the  work 
he  is  doing. 


366  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

I  found  him  late  in  August,  when  every- 
one else  connected  with  the  government  had 
left  London  on  their  vacation,  buried  deep  in 
the  details  and  concerns  of  his  office,  but  chock- 
full  of  energy  and  enthusiasm. 

What  John  Burns  is  doing,  and  the  spirit 
in  which  he  is  doing  it,  will,  perhaps,  appear 
in  the  course  of  my  description  of  a  trip  which  I 
took  with  him  through  his  own  district  of 
Battersea  and  the  region  adjoining  it  in  order 
to  see  what  the  London  County  Council  is 
doing  there  to  make  the  life  of  the  poor  man 
better.  I  am  sorry  that  I  will  not  be  able  to 
describe  in  detail  all  that  I  saw  on  that  trip, 
because  we  covered  in  a  short  time  so  much 
ground,  and  saw  so  many  different  things,  that 
it  was  not  until  I  had  returned  to  my  hotel,  and 
had  an  opportunity  to  study  out  the  route  of 
that  journey,  that  I  was  able  to  get  any  definite 
idea  of  the  direction  in  which  we  had  gone  or 
of  the  connection  and  general  plan  which  under- 
lay the  whole  scheme  of  the  improvements  we 
had  seen. 

I  think  it  was  about  two  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon when  we  left  the  offices  of  the  Local  Gov- 
ernment Board.  Mr.  Burns  insisted  that,  be- 
fore we  started,  I  should  see  something  of  the 
Parliament  Buildings,  and  he  promised  to 
act  as  my  guide.     This  hasty  trip  through  the 


JOHN  BURNS  367 

Parliament  Buildings  served  to  show  me  that 
John  Burns,  although  he  had  entered  political 
life  as  a  Socialist,  has  a  profound  reverence  for 
all  the  historic  traditions  and  a  very  intimate 
knowledge  of  English  history.  I  shall  not  soon 
forget  the  eloquent  and  vivid  manner  in  which 
he  summoned  up  for  me,  as  we  passed  through 
Westminster  Hall,  on  the  way  to  the  House  of 
Commons,  some  of  the  great  historical  scenes 
and  events  which  had  taken  place  in  that  ancient 
and  splendid  room.  I  was  impressed  not  only 
by  the  familiarity  which  he  showed  with  all  the 
associations  of  the  place,  but  I  was  thrilled  by 
the  enthusiasm  with  which  he  spoke  of  and  de- 
scribed them.  It  struck  me  as  very  strange  that 
the  same  John  Burns  once  known  as  "the  man 
with  the  red  flag,"  who  had  been  imprisoned 
for  leading  a  mob  of  workmen  against  the 
police,  should  be  quoting  history  with  all  the 
enthusiasm  of  a  student  and  a  scholar. 

In  the  course  of  our  journey  we  passed  through 
a  small  strip  of  Chelsea.  I  remember  that 
among  the  other  places  we  passed  he  pointed 
out  the  home  of  Thomas  Carlyle.  I  found  that 
he  was  just  as  familiar  with  names  and  deeds 
of  all  the  great  literary  persons  who  had  lived 
in  that  quarter  of  London  as  he  was  with  the 
political  history. 

When  he  afterward  told  me  that  he  had  had 


368  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

very  little  education  in  school,  because  he  had 
been  compelled  to  go  to  work  when  he  was  ten 
years  of  age,  I  asked  him  how  he  had  since 
found  time,  in  the  course  of  his  busy  life,  to 
gain  the  wide  knowledge  of  history  and  litera- 
ture which  he  evidently  possessed. 

"You  see,"  he  replied,  with  a  quiet  smile, 
''I  earned  my  living  for  a  time  as  a  candle 
maker  and  I  have  burned  a  good  many  candles 
at  night  ever  since. " 

Mr.  Burns  had  promised  to  show  me,  w^ithin 
the  space  of  a  few  hours,  examples  of  the  sort 
of  work  which  is  now  going  on  in  every  part  of 
London.  A  few  years  ago,  on  the  site  of  an 
ancient  prison,  the  London  County  Council 
erected  several  blocks  of  workingmen's  tene- 
ments. These  were,  I  believe,  the  first,  or 
nearly  the  first,  of  the  tenements  erected  by  the 
city  in  the  work  of  clearing  away  unsanitary 
areas  and  providing  decent  homes  for  the  work- 
ing classes. 

It  was  to  these  buildings,  in  which  a  popu- 
lation of  about  4,000  persons  live,  that  we  went 
first.  The  buildings  are  handsome  brick  struc- 
tures, well  lighted,  with  wide,  open,  brick-paved 
courts  between  the  rows  of  houses,  so  that  each 
block  looked  like  a  gigantic  letter  H  with  the 
horizontal  connecting  line  left  out. 

Of  course,  these  buildings  were,  as  some  one 


JOHN  BURNS  369 

said,  little  more  than  barracks  compared  with 
the  houses  that  are  now  being  erected  for  labour- 
ing people  in  some  of  the  London  suburbs,  but 
they  are  clean  and  wholesome  and,  to  any  one 
familiar  with  the  narrow,  grimy  streets  in  the 
East  End  of  London,  it  was  hard  to  believe  that 
they  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  region  which  a  few 
years  ago  had  been  a  typical  London  slum. 

A  little  farther  on  we  crossed  the  river  and 
entered  what  Mr.  Burns  referred  to  as  "my  own 
district,"  Battersea,  where  he  was  born  and 
where  he  has  lived  and  worked  all  his  life,  ex- 
cept for  one  year  spent  as  an  engineer  in  Nigeria, 
Africa. 

The  great  breathing  place  for  the  people  of 
this  region  is  Battersea  Park,  and  as  we  sped 
along  the  edge  of  this  beautiful  green  space, 
stopping  to  look  for  a  moment  at  the  refresh- 
ment booths  on  the  cricket  grounds,  or  to  speak 
to  a  group  of  well-  dressed  boys  going  from  school 
to  the  playgrounds,  Mr.  Burns  interspersed  his 
information  about  workmen's  wages,  the  price 
of  rents,  and  the  general  improvement  of  the 
labouring  classes  with  comment  on  the  historic 
associations  of  the  places  we  passed.  Where 
Battersea  Park  now  stands  there  was  formerly  a 
foul  and  unwholesome  swamp.  Near  here  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  had  fought  a  duel  with  the 
Earl   of   Winchelsea,    and    a   little   farther   up 


370  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

Julius  Ccesar,  nearly  two  thousand  years  ago, 
forded  the  river  with  one  of  his  legions. 

It  was  a  happy  and  novel  experience  to  ob- 
serve the  pleasure  which  Mr.  Burns  took  in 
pointing  out  the  improvement  in  the  people,  in 
the  dwellings,  and  in  the  life  of  the  people  gener- 
ally, and  to  note,  in  turn,  the  familiar  and  cheer- 
ful way  with  which  all  sorts  of  people  we  met  on 
the  streets  greeted  him  as  we  passed. 

^' Hello!  Johnny  Burns, "  a  group  of  schoolboys 
would  call  as  we  went  by.  Once  we  passed  by  a 
group  of  some  fifteen  or  twenty  workingwomen 
sitting  in  one  of  the  refreshment  booths,  drink- 
ing their  afternoon  tea  and,  apparently,  hold- 
ing a  neighbourhood  meeting  of  some  kind  or 
other.  As  they  recognized  the  man  who,  as 
member  of  the  London  County  Council,  had 
been  responsible  for  most  of  the  improvements 
that  had  been  made  in  the  homes  and  surround- 
ings in  which  they  lived,  they  stood  up  and 
waved  their  handkerchiefs,  and  even  attempted 
a  faint  and  feminine  "  hurrah  for  Johnny  Burns, " 
the  member  from  Battersea. 

There  are  150,000  people  in  Battersea,  but 
Mr.  Burns  seemed  to  be  acquainted  with  every 
one  of  them,  and  when  he  wanted  to  show  me 
the  inside  of  some  of  the  new  "  County  Council 
houses,"  as  they  are  called,  did  not  hesitate  to 
knock  at  the  nearest  door,  where  we  were  gladly 


.       JOHN   BURNS  371 

welcomed.  The  people  seemed  to  be  just  as 
proud  of  their  new  houses,  and  of  Mr.  Burns,  as 
he  was  of  them. 

The  houses  which  we  visited  were,  some  of 
them,  no  more  than  three  or  four  rooms,  but 
each  one  of  them  was  as  neat  and  wholesome  as 
if  it  had  been  a  palace.  They  were  very  com- 
pactly built,  but  provided  with  every  sort  of 
modern  convenience,  including  electric  lights 
and  baths. 

There  were  houses  of  five  and  six  rooms  in- 
tended for  clerks  and  small  business  men,  which 
rented  for  a  pound  a  week,  and  there  were 
cheaper  houses,  for  ordinary  labouring  people, 
which  rented  for  two  dollars  per  week.  These 
houses  are  built  directly  under  the  direction  of 
the  London  County  Council,  and  are  expected 
to  pay  3  per  cent,  upon  the  investment,  after 
completion. 

The  London  County  Council  was  not  the 
first  to  make  the  experiment  of  building  decent 
and  substantial  houses  for  the  labouring  classes. 
Some  thirty  years  before,  on  what  is  known  as 
the  Shaftbury  Park  Estate,  1,200  houses,  v/hich 
provide  homes  for  eleven  thousand  people,  were 
erected  and  the  investment  had  been  made  to 
pay. 

I  looked  down  the  long  lanes  of  little  vine- 
covered  buildings  which  make  up  this  estate. 


372  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

It  seemed  as  if  some  great  army  had  settled  on 
the  land  and  built  permanent  quarters. 

These  labour  colonies  were  interesting,  not 
merely  for  the  improvement  they  had  made  in 
the  lives  of  a  large  section  of  the  people  living 
in  this  part  of  the  city,  but  as  the  forerunner  of 
those  garden  cities  which  private  enterprise  has 
erected  at  places  like  Port  Sunlight,  near  Liver- 
pool; Bourneville,  in  the  outskirts  of  Birming- 
ham, and  at  Letchworth,  thirty-four  miles 
from  London. 

Not  far  from  Battersea  Park,  and  in  a  part 
of  the  city  which  was  formerly  inhabited  almost 
wholly  by  the  very  poor,  we  visited  the  public 
baths  and  a  public  washhouse  where,  during  the 
course  of  a  year,  42,000  women  come  to  wash 
their  clothes,  paying  at  the  rate  of  three  cents 
an  hour  for  the  use  of  the  municipal  tubs  and 
hot  water.  Children  pay  a  penny  or  two  cents 
for  the  use  of  the  public  baths.  The  building 
is  also  provided  with  a  gymnasium  for  the  use 
of  the  children  in  winter,  and  contains  a  hall 
which  is  rented  to  workingmen's  clubs  at  a  nom- 
inal price. 

What  pleased  me  most  was  to  see  the  orderly 
way  in  which  the  children  had  learned  to  conduct 
themselves  in  these  places,  which,  as  was  evident, 
had  become  not  merely  places  for  recreation, 
but  at  the  same  time  schools  of  good  manners. 


JOHN  BURNS  373 

We  passed  on  the  streets  groups  of  neatly 
dressed,  well-bred  looking  boys,  with  their  books 
slung  over  their  arms,  going  home  from  school 
or  making  their  way  to  the  park.  Mr.  Burns 
was  delighted  at  the  sight  of  these  clean-cut, 
manly  looking  fellows. 

'^Look  at  those  boys,  Mr.  Washington,"  he 
would  exclaim,  as  he  pointed  proudly  to  one  or 
another  of  these  groups.  ^' Isn't  that  doing 
pretty  well  for  the  proletariat?" 

Then  he  would  leap  out  of  the  automobile, 
before  the  driver  could  stop,  put  his  arm  around 
the  boy  nearest  him  and,  in  a  moment,  come 
back  triumphant  with  the  confirmation  of  his 
statement  that  the  boy's  father  was,  as  he  had 
said,  only  a  small  clerk  or  a  letter  carrier,  or, 
perhaps,  the  son  of  a  common  labourer,  a  navvy. 

When  I  contrasted  the  appearance  of  these 
well-dressed  and  well-behaved  boys  with  some 
of  those  I  had  seen  elsewhere,  with  the  chil- 
dren who  attend  the  so-called  "ragged"  schools, 
for  example,  I  understood  and  shared  his  en- 
thusiasm. 

From  Battersea  Park  we  went  to  Clapham 
Common  and,  as  we  were  speeding  along 
through  what  appeared  to  be  a  quarter  of  well- 
to-do  artisans'  homes,  Mr.  Burns  nodded  casu- 
ally in  the  direction  of  a  little  vine-clad  cottage 
and  said: 


374  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

"That  Is  where  I  live." 

Although  Mr.  Burns  now  occupies  one  of  the 
highest  positions  in  the  British  Government, 
in  which  he  has  a  salary  of  $10,000  a  year,  he 
has  not  yet  assumed  the  high  hat  and  the  long- 
tailed  coat  which  are  the  recognized  uniform  in 
London  of  a  gentleman.  On  the  contrary,  he 
wears  the  same  blue  reefer  coat  and  soft  felt 
hat,  speaks  the  same  language,  lives  in  the  same 
style,  and  is  apparently  in  every  respect  the 
same  man  that  he  was  when  he  was  living  on  the 
$25  a  week  guaranteed  him  by  the  Battersea 
Labour  League  when  he  entered  parliament. 
He  is  still  a- labouring  man  and  proud  of  the  class 
to  which  he  belongs. 

It  was  at  Clapham  Common,  although  Mr. 
Burns  did  not  mention  this  fact,  that  he  was 
arrested  for  the  first  time,  away  back  in  1878, 
for  making  a  public  speech.  It  was  somewhere 
in  this  region  also,  if  I  remember  rightly,  that 
Mr.  Burns  pointed  out  to  us  a  private  estate  on 
which  3,000  houses  of  the  cheaper  class  had  been 
erected. 

"And  mind  you,  there  is  no  public  house," 
said  Mr.  Burns.  Instead  he  showed  us  a  brand- 
new  temperance  billiard  hall  which  had  been 
erected  to  compete  with,  and  take  the  place  of, 
the  bar-rooms  which  have  disappeared. 

At  Lower  Tooting,  an  estate  of  some  thirty- 


JOHN  BURNS  375 

eight  acres,  the  London  County  Council  is 
building  outright  a  city  of  something  like  5,000 
inhabitants,  laying  out  the  streets,  building  the 
houses,  even  putting  a  tidy  little  flower  garden 
in  each  separate  front  door  yard.  It  was  as  if 
the  London  County  Council  had  gone  to  playing 
dolls,  so  completely  planned  and  perfectly  car- 
ried out  in  every  detail  is  this  little  garden  city. 

Mr.  Burns,  who  has  all  his  life  been  an  advo- 
cate of  temperance,  although  he  had  once  served 
as  pot-boy  in  a  public  house,  pointed  out  here,  as 
he  did  elsewhere,  that  there  was  no  public  house. 

In  the  building  of  this  little  paradise  all  the 
architectural  and  engineering  problems  had  in- 
deed been  solved.  There  remained,  however, 
the  problem  of  human  nature,  and  the  question 
that  I  asked  myself  was:  Will  these  people  be 
able  to  live  up  to  their  surroundings  ? 

It  is  fortunate,  in  this  connection,  that  in 
Mr.  Burns  the  inhabitants  have  a  leader 
who  dares  to  speak  plainly  to  them  of  their 
faults  as  well  as  their  virtues  and  who  is  able, 
at  the  same  time,  to  inspire  them  with  an  am- 
bition and  enthusiasm  for  the  better  life  which  is 
opened  to  them.  Engineering  and  architecture 
cannot  do  everything,  but  education,  leader- 
ship of  the  right  sort,  may  complete  what  these 
have  begun. 

At  Warden  Street  and  Lydden  Road,  on  our 


376  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

way  back  to  the  city,  we  stopped  to  look  for  a 
moment  at  what  Mr.  Burns  said  was  the  most 
wretched  part  of  the  population  in  that  quarter 
of  the  city.  The  houses  were  two-story  dwell- 
ings, with  the  sills  flush  with  the  pavement, 
in  front  of  which  groups  of  lounging  idle  men 
and  women  stood  or  squatted  on  the  pavement. 
A  portion  of  the  street  was  given  up  to  gypsy 
vans,  and  the  whole  population  was  made  up,  as 
I  learned,  of  pedlers  and  pushcart  venders,  a 
class  of  people  who,  in  the  very  centre  of  civili- 
zation, manage  somehow  to  maintain  a  nomadic 
and  half-barbarous  existence,  wandering  from 
one  place  to  another  with  the  seasons,  living 
from  hand  to  mouth,  working  irregularly  and 
not  more  than  half  the  time. 

A  little  farther  on  we  passed  by  the  Price 
candle  factory,  ''where  I  began  work  at  a  dollar 
a  week,"  said  Mr.  Burns  in  passing.  A  group 
of  workmen  were  just  coming  from  the  factory 
as  we  passed,  and  the  men  recognized  Mr. 
Burns  and  shouted  to  him  as  he  passed. 

Then  we  drove  on  back  across  the  Chelsea 
Bridge  and  along  the  river  to  the  Parliament 
Buildings  again.  "Now,"  said  Mr.  Burns  at 
the  end  of  our  journey,  ''you  have  seen  a  sam- 
ple of  what  London  is  doing  for  its  labouring 
population.  If  you  went  further  you  would 
see  more,  but  little  that  is  new  or  different. " 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE    FUTURE    OF   THE    MAN    FARTHEST  DOWN 

UPON  my  arrival  in  London  I  found  my- 
self, at  the  end  of  my  journey,  once 
more  at  my  point  of  departure.  A 
few  days  later,  October  9th,  to  be  precise,  I 
sailed  from  Liverpool  for  New  York.  I  had  been 
less  than  seven  weeks  in  Europe,  but  it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  had  been  away  for  a  year.  My 
head  was  full  of  strange  and  confused  impres- 
sions and  I  was  reminded  of  the  words  of  the 
traveller  who,  after  he  had  crossed  Europe  from 
London  to  Naples,  and  had  visited  faithfully 
all  the  museums  and  neglected  none  of  the 
regular  "sights,"  wrote  to  friends  he  had  visited 
in  Europe  a  letter  full  of  appreciation,  conclud- 
ing with  the  remark:  "Well,  I  have  seen  a  great 
deal  and  learned  a  great  deal,  and  I  thank  God  it 
is  all  over^ 

It  occurs  to  me  that  the  readers  who  have  fol- 
lowed me  thus  far  in  my  narrative  may  find 
themselves  at  the  conclusion  of  this  book  in 
somewhat  the  same  situation  as  myself  at  the 
end  of  my  journey.     In  that  case  it  will,  per- 

377 


378  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

haps,  not  be  out  of  place  to  take  advantage  of 
this  concluding  chapter  to  do  for  them  as  well 
as  I  am  able  what  I  tried  to  do  for  myself  during 
my  hours  of  leisure  on  the  voyage  home  — 
namely,  make  a  little  clearer  the  relation  of  all 
that  I  had  seen  and  learned  to  the  problem  of 
the  Negro  and  The  Man  Farthest  Down. 

I  have  touched,  in  the  course  of  these  chap- 
ters, upon  many  phases  of  life.  I  have  had 
something  to  say,  for  example,  in  regard  to 
the  poverty,  education.  Socialism,  and  the  race 
problems  of  Europe,  since  all  these  different 
matters  are  connected  in  one  way  or  another 
with  the  subject  and  purpose  of  my  journey  and 
this  book. 

In  attempting  to  add  the  moral  to  my  story, 
however,  and  state  in  general  terms  the  upshot 
of  it  all,  I  find  myself  at  a  disadvantage.  I  can, 
perhaps,  best  explain  what  I  mean  by  recalling 
the  fact  that  I  was  born  a  slave  and  since  I  be- 
came free  have  been  so  busy  with  the  task  im- 
mediately in  front  of  me  that  I  have  never  had 
time  to  think  out  my  experiences  and  formulate 
my  ideas  in  general  terms.  In  fact,  almost  all 
that  I  know  about  the  problems  of  other  races 
and  other  peoples  I  have  learned  in  seeking  a 
solution  and  a  way  out  for  my  own  people.  For 
that  reason  I  should  have  done  better  perhaps 
to  leave  to  some  one  with  more  learning  and  more 


THE  FUTURE  379 

leisure  than  I  happen  to  possess  the  task  of 
writing  about  the  Underman  in  Europe.  In 
fact  I  would  have  done  so  if  I  had  not  beheved 
that  in  making  this  journey  I  should  gain  some 
insight  and,  perhaps,  be  able  to  throw  some  new 
light  upon  the  situation  of  my  own  people  in 
America.  Indeed,  I  confess  that  I  should  never 
have  taken  the  time  —  brief  as  it  was  —  to  make 
this  long  journey  if  I  had  not  believed  it  was 
going  to  have  some  direct  relation  to  the  work 
which  I  have  been  trying  to  do  for  the  people 
of  my  race  in  America. 

In  this,  let  me  add,  I  was  not  disappointed. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  if  there  was  one  thing  more 
than  another,  in  all  my  European  experiences, 
which  was  impressed  upon  my  mind,  it  was  the 
fact  that  the  position  of  the  Negro  in  America, 
both  in  slavery  and  in  freedom,  has  not  been  so 
exceptional  as  it  has  frequently  seemed.  While 
there  are  wide  differences  between  the  situation 
of  the  people  in  the  lower  levels  of  life  in  Europe 
and  the  Negro  in  America,  there  are  still  many 
points  of  resemblance,  and  the  truth  is  that  the 
man  farthest  down  in  Europe  has  much  in  com- 
mon with  the  man  at  the  bottom  in  America. 

For  example,  the  people  at  the  bottom  in 
Europe  have  been,  in  most  cases,  for  the  greater 
part  of  their  history  at  least,  like  the  Negroes 
in  America,   a  subject  people,  not  slaves,  but 


38o  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

bondmen  or  serfs,  at  any  rate  a  disadva-ntaged 
people. 

In  most  cases  the  different  under-classes  in 
Europe  only  gained  their  freedom  in  the  course 
of  the  last  century.  Since  that  time  they  have 
been  engaged  in  an  almost  ceaseless  struggle  to 
obtain  for  themselves  the  political  privileges  that 
formerly  belonged  to  the  upper  classes  alone. 

Even  in  those  places  where  the  man  at  the 
bottom  has  gained  political  privileges  resembling 
in  most  respects  those  of  the  classes  at  the  top  he 
finds,  as  the  Negro  in  America  has  found,  that 
he  has  only  made  a  beginning,  and  the  real 
work  of  emancipation  remains  to  be  done.  The 
English  labourer,  for  example,  has  had  political 
freedom  for  a  longer  period  of  time  than  is  true 
of  any  other  representative  of  this  class  in 
Europe.  Notwithstanding  this  fact,  as  things 
are,  he  can  only  in  rare  instances  buy  and  own 
the  land  on  which  he  lives.  The  labouring 
people  of  England  live,  for  the  most  part, 
herded  together  with  millions  of  others  of  their 
class  in  the  slums  of  great  cities,  where  air  and 
water  are  luxuries.  They  are  dependent  upon 
some  other  nation  for  their  food  supplies,  for 
butter,  bread,  and  meat.  And  then,  as  a  fur- 
ther consequence  of  the  way  they  are  compelled 
to  live,  the  masses  of  the  people  find  themselves 
part  of  an  economic  arrangement  or  system 


THE  FUTURE  381 

which  IS  so  vast  and  complicated  that  they  can 
neither  comprehend  nor  control  it. 

The  result  is  that  the  English  labourer,  of 
whose  independence  the  world  has  heard  so 
much,  is,  in  many  respects,  more  dependent 
than  any  other  labouring  class  in  Europe.  This 
is  due  not  to  the  fact  that  the  English  labourer 
lacks  political  rights,  but  to  the  fact  that  he 
lacks  economic  opportunities  —  opportunities  to 
buy  land  and  opportunities  to  labour;  to  own 
his  own  home,  to  keep  a  garden  and  raise  his 
own  food. 

The  Socialists  have  discovered  that  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  labouring  classes  has  been  un- 
dermined as  a  result  of  the  growth  of  factories  and 
city  life,  and  believe  they  have  found  a  remedy. 

What  the  Socialists  would  actually  do  in 
England  or  elsewhere,  provided  they  should 
manage  to  get  into  power,  is  difficult  to  say, 
because,  as  my  experience  in  Europe  has  taught 
me,  there  are  almost  as  many  kinds  of  Socialists 
as  there  are  kinds  of  people.  The  real  old-fash- 
ioned Socialists,  those  who  still  look  forward 
to  some  great  social  catastrophe  which  will  put 
an  end  to  the  present  regime,  believe  it  will 
then  be  possible  to  use  the  political  power  of 
the  masses  to  reorganize  society  in  a  way  to  give 
every  individual  an  economic  opportunity  equal 
to  that  of  every  other. 


^.^^^fT 


THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 


Taking  human  beings  as  we  find  them,  I 
have  never  been  able  to  see  how  this  was  going 
to  be  brought  about  in  precisely  the  way  out- 
lined in  the  Socialist  programme.  Some  in- 
dividuals will  be  good  for  one  thing,  some  for 
another,  and  there  will  always  be,  I  suppose, 
a  certain  number  who  will  not  be  good  for  any- 
thing. As  they  have  different  capacities,  so 
they  will  have  different  opportunities.  Some 
will  want  to  do  one  thing  and  some  another, 
and  some  individuals  and  some  people,  like 
the  Jews  for  example,  will  know  how  to  make 
their  disadvantages  their  opportunities  and  so 
get  the  best  of  the  rest  of  the  world,  no  matter 
how  things  are  arranged. 
■'^^^I  have  referred  to  the  Socialists  and  the 
revolution  they  propose  not  because  I  wish 
to  oppose  their  doctrines,  which  I  confess  I  do 
not  wholly  understand,  but  because  it  seemed 
to  me  that,  as  I  went  through  Europe  and 
studied  conditions,  I  could  see  the  evidences 
of  a  great,  silent  revolution  already  in  full 
progress.  And  this  revolution  to  which  I 
refer  is  touching  and  changing  the  lives  of  those 
who  are  at  the  bottom,  particularly  those  in  the 
remote  farming  communities,  from  which  the 
lowest  class  of  labourers  in  the  city  is  con- 
stantly recruited. 

Let  me  illustrate  what  I  mean:  Under  the 


THE  FUTURE  383 

old  system  in  Europe  —  the  feudal  system,  or 
whatever  else  it  may  at  various  times  have  been 
called  —  civilization  began  at  the  top.  There 
were  a  few  people  who  were  free.  They  had 
all  the  wealth,  the  power,  and  the  learning  in 
their  hands,  or  at  their  command.  When  any- 
thing was  done  it  was  because  they  wished  It  or 
because  they  commanded  it.  In  order  to  give 
them  this  freedom  and  secure  to  them  this 
power  It  was  necessary  that  vast  numbers  of 
other  people  should  live  in  ignorance,  without 
any  knowledge  of,  or  share  In,  any  but  the  petty 
life  of  the  estate  or  the  community  to  which 
they  belonged.  They  were  not  permitted  to 
move  from  the  spot  in  which  they  were  born, 
without  the  permission  of  their  masters.  It 
was,  In  their  case,  almost  a  crime  to  think.  It 
was  the  same  system,  in  a  very  large  degree, 
as  that  which  existed  in  the  Southern  States 
before  the  war,  with  the  exception  that  the 
serfs  in  Europe  were  white,  while  the  slaves 
in  the  Southern  States  were  black. 

In  Europe  to-day  the  great  problem  to  which 
statesmen  are  giving  their  thought  and  atten- 
tion Is  not  how  to  hold  the  masses  of  the  people 
down  but  how  to  lift  them  up;  to  make  them 
more  efficient  in  their  labour  and  give  them  a 
more  intelligent  share  and  interest  in  the  life 
of  the  community  and  state  of  which  they  are 


384  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

a  part.  Everywhere  in  Europe  the  idea  is 
gaining  ground  and  influence  that  the  work  of 
civilization  must  begin  at  the  bottom  instead 
of  at  the  top. 

{\  The  great  medium  for  bringing  about  these 
changes  is  the  school.  In  every  part  of  Europe 
which  I  visited  I  was  impressed  with  the  multi- 
tude of  schools  of  various  kinds  which  are 
springing  up  to  meet  the  new  demand.  The 
movement  began  earlier  and  has  gone  farther 
in  Denmark  than  it  has  elsewhere,  and  the 
remarkable  development  of  Danish  country 
life  has  been  the  result.  What  has  been  accom- 
plished in  Denmark,  through  the  medium  of  the 
country  high  schools,  and  in  Germany,  through 
the  universities  and  technical  training  schools, 
is  being  industriously  imitated  elsewhere. 

In  England  I  found  that  people  were  saying 
that  the  reason  why  German  manufactures 
had  been  able  to  compete  so  successfully  with 
the  English  products  was  because  Germany  had 
the  advantage  of  better  schools.  In  Germany 
I  found  that  the  German  army,  organized  in 
the.  first  instance  for  the  national  defence,  is 
now  looked  upon  as  a  great  national  school, 
in  which  the  masses  of  the  people  get  an  edu- 
cation and  discipline  which,  it  is  claimed,  are 
gradually  raising  the  industrial  efficiency  of  the 
nation. 


THE  FUTURE  385 

There,  as  elsewhere,  education  is  seeking  to 
reach  and  touch  every  class  and  every  individual 
of  every  class  in  the  community.  The  deaf, 
the  blind,  the  defectives  of  every  description 
are  now  beginning  to  receive  industrial  edu- 
cation fitting  them  for  trades  in  which  they 
will  be  more  useful  to  the  community  and  more 
independent  than  it  was  possible  for  them  to  be 
when  no  attempt  was  made  to  fit  them  for 
any  place  in  the  life  of  the  community. 

The  eff'ect  of  this  movement,  or  revolution, 
as  I  have  called  it,  is  not  to  "tear  down  and 
level  up"  in  order  to  bring  about  an  artificial 
equality,  but  to  give  every  individual  a  chance 
"to  make  good,"  to  determine  for  himself  his 
place  and  position  in  the  community  by  the 
character  and  quality  of  the  service  he  is  able 
to  perform. 

One  efi'ect  of  this  change  in  point  of  view 
which  I  have  described  is  that  to-day  there  is 
hardly  any  one  thing  in  which  the  people  of 
Europe  are  more  concerned  than  in  the  progress 
and  future  of  the  man  farthest  down. 

In  all  that  I  have  written  in  the  preceding 
chapters  I  have  sought  to  emphasize,  in  the 
main,  two  things:  first,  that  behind  all  the 
movements  which  have  affected  the  masses  of 
the  people,  Socialism  or  nationalism,  emigration, 
the  movements  for  the  reorganization  of  city 


386  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

and  country  life,  there  has  always  been  the 
Underman,  groping  his  way  upward,  struggling 
to  rise;  second,  that  the  effect  of  all  that  has 
been  done  to  lift  the  man  at  the  bottom,  or  to 
encourage  him  to  lift  himself,  has  been  to  raise 
the  level  of  every  man  above  him. 

If  it  is  true,  as  I  have  so  often  said,  that  one 
man  cannot  hold  another  down  in  the  ditch 
without  staying  down  in  the  ditch  with  him, 
it  is  just  as  true  that,  in  helping  the  man  who 
is  down  to  rise,  the  man  who  is  up  is  freeing 
himself  from  a  burden  that  would  else  drag 
him  down.  It  is  because  the  world  seems  to 
realize  this  fact  more  and  more  that,  beyond 
and  above  all  local  and  temporary  difficulties,  the 
future  of  the  man  farthest  down  looks  bright. 

And  now  at  the  conclusion  of  my  search  for 
the  man  farthest  down  in  Europe  let  me  con- 
fess that  I  did  not  succeed  in  finding  him.  I 
did  not  succeed  in  reaching  any  place  in  Europe 
where  conditions  were  so  bad  that  I  did  not 
hear  of  other  places,  which  friends  advised  me 
to  visit,  where  conditions  were  a  great  deal 
worse.  My  own  experience  was,  in  fact,  very 
much  like  that  of  a  certain  gentleman  who 
came  South  some  years  ago  to  study  the  con- 
dition of  the  Negro  people.  He  had  heard 
that  in  many  parts  of  the  South  the  Negro 
was  gradually  sinking  back  into  something  like 


THE  FUTURE  387 

African  savagery,  and  he  was  particularly 
desirous  of  finding  a  well-defined  example  of 
this  relapse  into  barbarism.  He  started  out 
with  high  hopes  and  a  very  considerable  fund 
of  information  as  to  what  he  might  expect  to 
find  and  as  to  the  places  where  he  might  hope 
to  find  it.  Everywhere  he  went  in  his  search, 
however,  he  found  that  he  had  arrived  a  few 
years  too  late.  He  found  at  every  place  he 
visited  people  who  were  glad  to  tell  him  the 
worst  there  was  to  be  known  about  the  coloured 
people;  some  were  even  kind  enough  to  show 
what  they  thought  was  about  the  worst  there 
was  to  be  found  among  the  Negroes  in  their 
particular  part  of  the  country.  Still  he  was 
disappointed  because  he  never  found  anything 
that  approached  the  conditions  he  was  looking 
for,  and  usually  he  was  compelled  to  be  con- 
tented with  the  statement,  made  to  him  by 
each  one  of  his  guides  in  turn,  which  ran 
something  like  this:  "Conditions  were  not  near 
as  bad  as  they  had  been.  A  few  years  ago,  if 
he  had  happened  to  have  come  that  way,  he 
would  have  been  able  to  see  things,  and  so 
forth;  but  now  conditions  were  improving. 
However,  if  he  wanted  to  see  actual  barbarism 
he  should  visit "  —  and  then  they  usually  named 
some  distant  part  of  the  country  with  which 
he  had  not  yet  become  acquainted. 


388  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

In  this  way  this  gentleman,  who  was  hunting 
the  worst  that  was  to  be  seen  among  the  Negroes, 
as  I  was  hunting  the  worst  that  was  to  be  seen 
among  the  people  of  Europe,  travelled  all  over 
the  Southern  States,  going  from  one  dark  corner 
to  another,  but  never  finding  things  as  bad  as 
they  were  advertised.  Instead  of  that,  back- 
ward as  the  people  were  in  many  of  the  remote 
parts  of  the  country,  he  found,  just  as  I  did  in 
Europe,  that  everywhere  the  people  were  mak- 
ing progress.  In  some  places  they  were  ad- 
vancing more  slowly  than  they  were  in  others, 
but  everywhere  there  was,  on  the  whole, 
progress  rather  than  decline.  The  result 
in  his  case  was  the  same  as  it  had  been 
in  mine,  the  farther  he  went  and  the  more 
he  saw  of  the  worst  there  was  to  see,  the 
more  hopeful  he  became  of  the  people  as  a 
whole. 

I  saw  much  that  was  primitive  and  much 
that  was  positively  evil  in  the  conditions  in 
Europe,  but  nowhere  did  I  find  things  as  bad 
as  they  were  described  to  me  by  persons  who 
knew  them  as  they  were  some  years  before. 
And  I  found  almost  no  part  of  the  country  in 
which  substantial  progress  had  not  been  made; 
no  place,  in  short,  where  the  masses  of  the 
people  were  without  hope. 

It  will,  perhaps,  seem  curious  to  many  persons 


THE  FUTURE  389 

that,  after  I  had  gone  to  Europe  for  the  express 
purpose  of  making  the  acquaintance  of  the 
people  at  the  bottom,  and  of  seeing,  as  far  as  I 
was  able,  the  worst  in  European  life,  I  should 
have  returned  with  a  hopeful  rather  than  a  pessi- 
mistic view  of  what  I  saw.   • 

The  fact  is,  however,  that  the  farther  I 
travelled  in  Europe,  and  the  more  I  entered 
into  the  life  of  the  people  at  the  bottom,  the 
more  I  found  myself  looking  at  things  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  people  who  are  looking  up, 
rather  than  from  that  of  the  people  who  are  at 
the  top  looking  down,  and,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  it  is  still  true  that  the  world  looks,  on 
the  whole,  more  interesting,  more  hopeful,  and 
more  filled  with  God's  providence,  when  you 
are  at  the  bottom  looking  up  than  when  you  are 
at  the  top  looking  down. 

To  the  man  in  the  tower  the  world  below 
him  is  likely  to  look  very  small.  Men  look  like 
ants  and  all  the  bustle  and  stir  of  their  hurrying 
lives  seems  pitifully  confused  and  aimless.  But 
the  man  in  the  street  who  is  looking  and  striving 
upward  is  in  a  diff"erent  situation.  However 
poor  his  present  plight,  the  thing  he  aims  at 
and  is  striving  toward  stands  out  clear  and 
distinct  above  him,  inspiring  him  with  hope 
and  ambition  in  his  struggle  upward.  For  the 
man  who  is  down  there  is   always  something 


390  THE  MAN  FARTHEST  DOWN 

to  hope  for,  always  something  to  be  gained. 
The  man  who  Is  down,  looking  up,  may  catch  a 
glimpse  now  and  then  of  heaven,  but  the  man 
who  is  so  situated  that  he  can  only  look  down 
is  pretty  likely  to  see  another  and  quite  dif- 
ferent place. 


THE    END 


The  Country  Life  Press 
Garden  City,  N.  Y. 


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